Bargaining Chip
by PinkGray
Summary: It was more than a mission gone awry - it had gone completely backwards. But tangled so deep within the lies that was apparently her life, she had no choice but to believe. Whether she trusted the right person though, was another thing entirely. ItaSaku.
1. Chapter 1

**Fair warning: **The rating will probably go up in the future. Currently rated for language, scenes and violence. Read at your own discretion.

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_It's a game of cat and mouse,  
But nobody can win.  
But above all, she's destined to lose._

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**Chapter 1**

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_Onyx met emerald._

Gasping, the pink haired kunoichi woke with a start.

The same dark ceiling greeted her as it had the previous night and most nights she spent sleeping in her bed. Much to her chagrin, it remained the same boring shade of gray. Sakura sighed; of course it was still the same colour. It was merely her impractical wish for it to change so she'd have a reminder that _no_, she wasn't just awakened by the same nightmare, again. Years ago, when the nightmare first placed itself into her subconscious, nostalgia and despair would follow without fault in the morning. But now, the pain from that wound had dulled to something bearable, and she was simply annoyed by these nightly reminders of her past.

But undoubtedly, tonight was going to be one of _those_ nights. Unconsciously, her slender fingers clenched the orange sheets (a gift from Naruto she couldn't bear to throw away, despite its obvious tackiness) tighter in her hand, her mind wandering back to the dream. She knew the dream as well, or perhaps even better than, as she knew reality. But sometimes, no matter how much she tried to suppress it...the scene that had replayed itself repeatedly within the world of her subconscious shook her more than she would care to admit.

The antagonist of her dreams remained as handsome as he had all those years ago. Time had distorted his flawless features in her memory, but it seemed her traitorous mind could do no better than give him an even more flawless complexion. Even seven years after his betrayal, Uchiha Sasuke still found a way to plague her mind nightly.

But she would be damned if she shed another tear for the bastard.

Swinging her legs off the edge of her queen sized bed, she stretched her cramped limbs out, her hands reaching towards the ceiling as she stifled a yawn. Her room was sparsely decorated – she hardly spent any time at home after all. With the war looming close on the horizon, ANBU were high in demand – or more specifically, _she_ was in high demand. A world class medic of her calibre with combat skills up to par was mostly unheard of. To the best of her knowledge, she was pretty much one of a kind, having trained under the legendary Godaime and all.

She forced herself to move to the tiny bathroom before her eyes could settle on the only other piece of furniture in the room. Her actions were futile, as the picture was long embedded into the depths of her mind, but she was stubborn. Mere feet away from the bed, the dresser stood, taunting her. The three pictures standing erect atop the bureau were three of her most prized possessions, yet...they brought her so much sorrow, she was hard pressed to believe she was a closet masochist.

On the left, the picture of her and Naruto bickering in Ichiraku just weeks ago; on the right, the picture of Team 7, complete with Sai and Yamato. And in the middle-

Her fingers clenched into a fist as the image resurfaced in her mind; the ever so cherished genin photo. She kept it there not because she needed a reminder of Sasuke's face. Her nightmares did a sufficient job of that. No, she kept them there because she loved their genin years for their childish innocence, ignorance and happiness. She smiled wryly. Sasuke once said to her that knowledge was power, and she had willingly believed it. She still believed it, but she also knew now that ignorance meant bliss.

Sometimes she pondered what it would be like to not know _this_ lifestyle. To be ignorant of this life of power, killing and constant danger. Perhaps it would've been peaceful. Perhaps she could've found a husband to love, and had a loving family of three children. She shook her head softly to herself; despite everything, she loved her life. She would not change her lifestyle for anything. She would live fighting for her country, and she would die that way as well.

In five quick strides her long legs brought her to the humble bathroom adjoined to her equally pathetic bedroom – a little shoebox with a shower, toilet, mirror and sink. The size wasn't usually an issue with Sakura – in fact, she preferred it this way. But always after these nightmares, she did her best to avert her apple green orbs from the square mirror. Her attempts to avoid her after nightmare reflection were never overly successful – small as it was, the mirror was basically the whole wall.

In reality, she didn't need to look in the mirror to know how she looked at this time.

She knew her cheeks would be overly hollow, and the bags under her eyes overly dark. Her cherry locks would be limp and glistening with sweat and her lips would be cracked and dry. But that didn't bother her – a quick shower and her ANBU mask would do the trick to fix that.

It was the one thing that could give away a human soul in an instant; the one feature people had that made them vulnerable to so much. Eyes – the portal to the soul, if she felt exerting herself and being poetic. It scared her to know that her apple green orbs would be darkened into a murky forest green – and inside that deep colour would be so much horror, anxiety, and sorrow. But most of all, it would show the broken soul inside.

Call it denial, but she wasn't willing to accept that she was still broken.

All too willingly, she sidestepped into the shower, her clothes dropping to the tiled floor in one smooth movement. Graceful movements were just one of the good side effects of being a kunoichi. It was ironic, really. To have that kind of beauty and grace in movement, only to use it for less...refined deeds expected of a kunoichi.

Outside her slightly ajar door, she could see the faintest traces of sunlight streaming through her half shuttered blinds. She no longer gave thought to it anymore. Like how the sun rose every morning, Naruto would be in her living room every morning like clockwork, and they'd leave in silence to their bridge.

But he was away on a mission, and would be away for an undetermined amount of time.

She had to squash the nagging trace of OCD within her that brought her unease at the divergence from tradition. She had long since gotten used to the lonely life this path would bring her, but she still missed him every time. _A lot_. Sighing to herself again, she forced herself to turn the shower knob. She only had an hour and a half left before her scheduled training session, and she was not about to allow herself to be late. She might've been Kakashi's student for four years and his comrade for another three, but she would be damned if all his bad habits rubbed off on her.

Especially since his morning ritual had already rubbed off on both her and Naruto.

Careful to avoid the small mirror, she walked out silently to the corner where her training clothes were piled in a bunch. The sudden change in temperature brought goose bumps over her silky skin, but she ignored it. Small, trivial things like that, things she would've complained about as a pre-teen, were nothing now.

She was different now, and she knew it. She'd become stronger beyond her imagination, yes. But nothing came without a price, and power held a hefty price tag. At the tender age of nineteen, she'd already seen things far beyond her years, and perhaps, even beyond her lifetime.

But she was in no position to judge, as she'd inflicted that kind of de-virginizing of innocence on countless others before.

In this profession, it was all a matter of perspective.

She dressed quickly, slipping the black tank top over her head with ease. She'd forgone the red years ago; her hair already did a wonderful job of making her stick out like a sore thumb – she didn't need her clothes adding to the fact. The short spandex shorts she reserved for training followed, hugging her butt snugly. Twelve-year old Sakura would've been mortified, yet inwardly pleased with this excessive amount of exposed skin for the world to see, her self-consciousness conflicting with her feminine vanity. But she was no longer that girl, and she didn't dress to please.

It was what she could move around best in, and therefore enhanced her training sessions all the more. Hastily, she strapped her kunai holster onto her right thigh before poofing out with a simple teleportation jutsu.

* * *

Sakura cursed as she was once again forced to hide in the bushes as he demolished yet _another_ bunshin.

Damn that Hyuuga. It was their odd day spar; he had to relinquish the use of his doujutsu, as long as she restrained from shattering him into a million little pieces with her monstrous fists. Everything else was fair game. Sakura had learned the hard way the first time they sparred like this that his Byakagun was not what made Neji the shinobi he was. In fact, she mused that he would be just as great without it, something she greatly respected him for.

Power was only real when it didn't come from the crutches that held one up.

Sakura didn't react until she was already pinned down to the ground, his kunai flirting dangerously with her jugular. She blinked up at him, momentarily confused, before mentally berating herself like a mother chastising a child. How could she have been so careless as to let her mind wander off? That was so..._genin_. If it had been a real battle, she would've been dead ten times over already.

"Sakura," said Neji, offering his hand to the floored girl. Unsurprisingly, she ignored it and sprang to her feet of her own accord. "Are you okay? You seem...distracted, as of late."

If it had been any other situation, she would've laughed at how uncomfortable the soon to be Hyuuga patriarch looked. She knew showing concern like this was not in his element, at _all_, and was touched he tried. They'd dated once, about fourteen months ago. But with the impending war, and lack of real passion so to speak, their romantic interests in each other diminished, but the platonic love (though he'd be damned if he would admit it) beneath was stronger than ever, even now.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just..._that_, you know? I'll be okay."

There was a slight flicker in his pale orbs, but it was gone in a blink. He was one of the few that were privy to the content of her constant nightmares, but that topic hadn't come up between them for the past half year. He'd hoped, if it was any indication that it was over for good.

Apparently not.

"Perhaps you should consult the Godaime again."

She shook her head slightly. "Shishou doesn't need anything else to worry over. Stone and Cloud are practically jumping our border."

He had marvelled once at how selfless the girl standing before him was. He speculated that even if she was dying, she wouldn't ask for help if it meant risking the other person. It was less apparent in Konoha where bonds were embedded deep into the hearts of most, but he knew many who would save self above all others. It was self-preservation, after all.

His internal amazement was carefully free from his face, and he offered her a small nod both in acknowledgement of her declaration and to inform her their session was over. "Shall we go to lunch then, Sakura?"

A small smile lit up her slightly muddied face at the mention of the finale of their training regime. It had long become habit, at least three times a week when they were both home, with the winner choosing their lunch destination. Given, Neji got to choose most days, and she was thankful he was not a ramen nut (oraddicted to any one type of food), like Naruto was.

It was comforting routine, just as the silence on their walk there was comforting and not awkward in the least.

He was never good at small talk, and she had long ago forgiven him for it, after his many awkward attempts during their relationship. It was the thought that counted. She always felt calm and safe on their walks; no words needed to be exchanged. They just _understood_ each other.

The small tea shop came into view seconds later, located conveniently (and not so conveniently sometimes) across from Ichiraku. Whenever they frequented there when Naruto was in town, the blonde would always harass the Hyuuga about 'stealing his Sakura-chan', seeing as he practically _lived_ in the ramen store.

But he wasn't here, and neither was Kakashi, who would sometimes join in on the harassment, albeit in typical Kakashi fashion. Aka, stand and glare, and occasionally share a cryptic comment or two. They were both away on missions, as was Sai. Sakura felt her heart sink slightly at the thought. Despite their obvious strength and power, she couldn't help but worry about her boys.

"Neji-san, Sakura-san," the maître d' greeted with a small bow, ushering them to their customary window table in the furthermost corner. "The usual today?"

Sakura nodded before sliding into her seat across Neji. "Thanks, Aina."

A comfortable silence settled over them again, but Neji shifted awkwardly in his seat. Sakura knew it was in anticipation of something he was rather dreading to say. "We can...talk about it, if you would like."

Sakura chuckled. "Thanks, Neji. But this," she gestured lightly to their general surrounding. Neji knew she wasn't referring to the teahouse, but of his presence. "Is enough already."

"Aa."

"So," she trailed off, a mischievous gleam appearing in her apple orbs. "I saw you with Eriko-san the other day..."

Neji froze at the pinkette's words, but she was casually sipping her genmaicha, looking as innocent as ever. "That was-"

Both shinobi froze as a foreign presence materialized at their table. The masked man inclined his head at them in respect before turning to face Sakura fully. "Haruno-san. Hokage-sama requests your presence at the hospital immediately."

The blood drained from Sakura's face as the words left the ANBU's mouth. There was only one reason Tsunade would summon her to the hospital like this. Her mentor never summoned her with such urgency unless it was a grave situation regarding her teammates.

Kakashi's team was back.

Sakura shot the Hyuuga an apologetic look, and barely missed the look of half concealed concern on the man's face. Inwardly grateful for his subtle understanding, she could only thank him within her mind as she rushed out of the restaurant in a flurry of pink and black.

The next few minutes were a blur to her as she fought her hardest to arrive at the hospital without pulverizing unsuspecting civilians on the way, and arrived within minutes at the Emergency Ward. She was thoroughly breathless, but paid herself no heed. There was no questioning her suspicions now; she could feel the faint chakra signatures of her boys just beyond the thin wall of the operating room that separated them.

Their _very_ faint chakra signatures.

Without a second's hesitation, the determined medic shoved her way into the operating room only to have her heart drop a further hundred meters at the sight before her.

"Sakura-sama!" a frazzled nurse sighed in relief at seeing their head medic. "The seals have all been drawn; Hokage-sama is waiting for you to begin the process."

Sakura nodded curtly to the small redhead before settling herself opposite from Tsunade. Even without looking, Sakura knew her shishou would have an aura of calm and professionalism surrounding her being. She tried her hardest to do the same; professional behaviour in such matters was of utmost importance. It had been one of her first and foremost lessons. She had sworn that day, that even if Naruto and Kakashi lay in a bloody heap on the operating seals, her professional demeanour would not waver.

Oh, how she wished she had sworn on something less morbid and heartbreaking that day. Perhaps if she hadn't jinxed it that day, two of her most precious people wouldn't be lying in a dead heap on said operating seals. Tsunade's barely perceptible nod shook her from her temporary reverie and she steeled herself for the next six, possibly seven hours.

She would save them, even if it killed her.

* * *

Ten hours later, the thoroughly exhausted and chakra depleted team of assembled medics exited Operation Room Three – but the satisfied atmosphere surrounding each and every one of them was unmistakable. Sakura nodded to her shishou when the busty blonde headed the other way, no doubt to her personal quarters for some well deserved rest. Honestly, she wanted nothing more than to hug her mother figure into oblivion, and cry tears of immeasurable joy at having brought her boys back from Satan's door.

But as it were, she barely had enough energy left to keep herself standing.

Staggering slightly under the weight of her own body, a thin arm shot out with impeccable timing to steady herself against the wall just as her legs gave way beneath her. With a quiet grunt, she caved to the fact that there would be no comforting, yet horrendous, orange sheets for her to sink into tonight. Her home was a disappointing ten minute walk from her workplace, and the medic in her knew better than to attempt the stupid.

Passing out on her stiff office couch would be better than dropping unconscious in the middle of the street at one in the morning, after all.

Using the stale white walls to balance, the fatigued woman trudged towards her office on the floor above. She looked nothing like the fearsome kunoichi she was now, her vibrant cerise locks were limp and sticking to her forehead, the twin sparkling emeralds that had captured the hearts of so many, reduced to a dull, almost unseeing green.

But even in her current state, the nurses knew better than to help their head medic. The headstrong woman hated any semblance of weakness – no doubt a legacy from her genin years, and would jump up from the dead, they suspected, if someone so much as hinted she was still a weakling.

And so they watched, a mixture of disbelief and awe in their eyes, as she trudged slowly towards the elevator. Her chakra had been the only constant source throughout the entire procedure. The Godaime had been forced to take a break at the seven hour mark – the nurses had watched in wry amusement as she declared that her 'old bones could stand no more'. Despite her sarcastic comment, it was obvious her chakra supply was flirting dangerously close to the zero mark.

Fearsome as she was, there was no doubt she was loved by her subordinates at the hospital. The air of respect for the blonde woman was unanimous among those who worked there. Her lively nature and young outward appearance had fooled their memory, if only temporarily.

It was hard to remember that the Godaime was in fact, getting _old_.

It was a taboo topic, but it went unsaid that the prime of her days were over. She hid it well with her seemingly permanent henge of herself – but it was little things like this that plunged them back down to the harsh reality. Young looking as she was, the reality remained that the woman beneath was nearing sixty. Legendary Sannin indeed, it was so rare of shinobi of any calibre, let alone hers, to live to such an age.

It was an unsettling realization. This woman, this fearsome kunoichi, was unable to do things she once was, stumped by _age_. Her chakra reserves were no longer as massive as they had been; her stamina and energy were slowly, but surely draining away.

These facts had not escaped Sakura.

To the rest that were merely acquainted with the Hokage, it was saddening to see the woman slowly lose the battle with old age. But for Sakura, the same fear that had gripped her when her mother was diagnosed with an untreatable illness once again crawled over her being and held her tightly within its grasp.

Tsunade was like a mother to her.

Hell, Tsunade _was_ her surrogate mother. And this slow, but sure degeneration of her abilities and her _life_ was frightening. It was unlike the fear she had when facing off with Sasori years ago – fear for her life maybe, but the adrenaline had quickly flushed any remnants of fear from her system.

But this-

Sakura knew that if the blonde left her now, the hole within her would never be closed. Her already raw heart had never been stitched together perfectly – the seams still showed, and another loss would just rip it open again completely.

And no amount of sewing would be able to fix her then.

Sakura shook her head. What was she thinking? Tsunade still had a lot of kick left in her – there was no time for moping. She would do what she had always done. Use herself to save those things that mattered the most to her. She had done it even back then in their genin days. Stepping between the two heart brothers on top of this very hospital – between their Chidori and Rasengan. She had done it then, and she would do it again.

But this time, it would not be just stepping stupidly into her death. It had been the most her abilities allowed back then – but no longer. This time around, she would put everything her seven years as a shinobi had given her. She would not lose anyone else.

Eyes fluttering shut, the kunoichi allowed the blackness to envelope her as she pitched forward onto the awaiting couch.

* * *

Her slumber had been blissfully void of any Uchiha.

She owed it to the fatigue for the lack of the signature nightmare. It was already nearing noon the next day; the midday position of the glaring sun showered her small living room/kitchen in its golden glow. Predictably, she had woken up with her body sore from the awkward position she had fallen to. Thankfully, her chakra had been replenished to at least three quarters of her usual capacity, and that was more than enough for her to move around.

As soon as she had relieved the tension in her joints, she was out the window and flying to her small apartment. She pushed away the small voice of a repressed Inner Sakura snickering _hypocrite_ at her – for she had already lost count of the amount of times she had reprimanded Neji and Kakashi for leaving the hospital in such an unorthodox manner.

With the small amount of chakra she had pushed into the soles of her feet, she made the journey that should've taken her ten minutes, in a mere four. Even her small shower had been a relief then, and the rejuvenated woman stepped out her bathroom with a new resolve.

It was a risk she was willing to take. Her mind had moved on autopilot, her hands packing the necessities she needed to survive. One set of clothing aside from the ANBU gear she donned already, two weapon scrolls and multiple medical scrolls, some of the money she had saved up over her career, and a whole lot of soldier pills.

She fought back the scowl at the sight of the pills, but she had no choice. Food took up too much space, and didn't provide her with half as much fuel as the one small pill did. Sparing her shoebox of a room one last wistful glance, she allowed her emerald orbs to linger on her beloved frames for a second too long.

They would stay here, in the safety of her home.

Sakura lifted the small pack into her arms, shutting the door behind her with a barely inaudible _click_. Her silent footfalls lead her to her small joined kitchen/living room, and she plopped down on to the small island bar stool. The small, still steaming cup of coffee in front of her sat forgotten as she stared out the large windows that almost eclipsed her living room wall.

She would miss this, would miss the bustling Konoha street on which her humble apartment was situated. Blowing out another sigh, she shouldered the pack, her standard ANBU issue katana strapped tightly to it. She had forgone the cloak; the end of spring, pre-summer weather of Konoha had eliminated the need to wear such heavy garb. It lay in a neat pile at the very bottom of her pack.

As soon as she had snapped the delicate porcelain mask over her face, the kunoichi was flying towards the Hokage tower.

She was almost positive her shishou would say yes. The Hokage had mentioned something in passing just weeks ago of similar nature, but neither kunoichi had wanted to expand, for the magnitude of consequences from such a mission would be endless.

But now, there was nothing Sakura wanted to do more. Giving the bored looking Izumo a nod, she treaded silently to the Hokage's door. She knocked only for the sake of formality; she knew Tsunade would be alone in there. She swung the door open delicately a moment later, stepped in, and bowed before closing the door shut behind her.

Tsunade looked more haggard than Sakura could dig up in recent memory, but shoved that thought aside. Slipping her mask to the side of her neck, Sakura trained her wary emerald eyes on her mentor.

"You're sure about this?" Tsunade asked quietly, her voice tired. The fatigue in her voice was not from the strenuous procedure the night before, but of a world-weary woman tired of all the bullshit this life offered. Sakura nodded slowly.

"Like you said before shishou," Sakura replied, "I'm the only one fit for this job."

"I _know_, but-" the blonde Hokage heaved another sigh, the reluctance clear in her troubled hazel orbs. "It's dangerous. And you'd be alone."

It was a last ditch attempt to sway the pink haired woman standing before her, and she knew it was a pathetic, futile attempt. If anything, her apprentice had inherited her pig-headedness. "I'm sure, shishou."

Tsunade nodded, and pulled the scroll sitting before her open. She had anticipated this moment. It was just like Sakura to sacrifice herself to save what mattered most to her. She cleared her throat. "Haruno Sakura. This mission, should you choose to accept it, is S-Class, and of the utmost importance."

Sakura gave her an expectant look. Tsunade resisted the urge to sigh again; she was starting to sound like that Nara brat. Throwing the scroll at her surrogate daughter, the feeling of deep seated regret within her only grew. She watched as Sakura tucked the scroll away into her hip pouch, not bothering to look at it. She knew what it said, after all. The mission had been presented to her but three weeks back. Back then, they had both deemed it as an unnecessary sacrifice.

But now, in the face of new the developments, she had no choice.

Sakura bit back the rising tears, and rushed forward to envelope the older woman in a fierce hug. "Take care, shishou. Look after those stupid boys of mine while I'm gone, will you?"

Tsunade grumbled something incoherent, along the lines of '_too much trouble_'. Grunting in true Tsunade fashion, the busty blonde crushed the petite girl closer to her frame. "Be careful, Sakura."

With a last squeeze, Sakura gave her mother figure a small wave, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat before disappearing through her oak door. When Izumo saw her emerge from the staircase, the chuunin could tell something was off. The usually vivacious kunoichi he and Kotetsu had come to love to flirt and banter with noncommittally was unusually sombre. He stopped her with a concerned gaze and swept her into a brief hug.

"Careful, Sakura," he said. It was obvious she had an unpleasant mission ahead, and he had an inkling as to what it entailed. He had seen Kakashi's team being dragged back last night; he knew how protective she was of her friends, especially her team.

"Bye," she whispered before combusting into a flurry of cherry blossoms. He gave the pile of fluttering cherry blossoms a wry glance before resuming his post. She would return home.

Five minutes away, back at the hospital, Sakura bent down to give her blonde heart brother a chaste kiss on the forehead. Hinata was nowhere to be found, visiting hours wouldn't be for another thirty minutes, and she was glad. She swept some of the blonde hair away from his bandaged face, burning his image into her brain. She bent down to hug him briefly before moving on to Kakashi and Sai.

None of them would wake up for another day. The amount of anaesthesia in their system could knock out an elephant, and she was relieved. Goodbyes were hard. She didn't want to imagine Naruto's worried words and fierce hugs, Kakashi's concerned eye, and Sai's lack of a false smile at her departure. Seeing her boys one last time before she left was enough.

Sweeping her twin emeralds over their battered bodies one last time, she got up and silently moved towards the door. She was sure they'd be angry when they woke up to find her gone. She chuckled to herself lightly when the image of a bandaged and thoroughly mummified Naruto berating an irritated Tsunade for letting Sakura leave like that floated into her mind.

She would miss their everyday banter, their morning walks to the old Team Seven bridge, training with Neji, eating lunch at their customary tea shop.

The looming gates came into view minutes later, and she fought the feeling of nostalgia fighting to hold her in its iron grip. There would be no turning back once she stepped foot outside of those gates; home would be but a distant memory for an undetermined amount of time.

Sparing a nod at the chuunin guards, Sakura leapt into the lush forests of Fire Country.

Even when she was just a silhouette of pink and billowing onyx against the varying luscious shades of emerald around her, she never looked back.

* * *

_A/N_: Second chapter should be up shortly. Not much happened in this chapter, but it's necessary to introduce the situation. The real action should start in the next (next) chapter. Anyone upset at this being written again, you'll notice that it's drastically different from what I had before. I decided to change the course of this story, so here it is. Please review if you liked it (and even if you didn't - _constructive_ criticism, please)! They make my heart soar and encourages me to write all the more. Press that little button down there & make me a happy girl :)

And huge thanks to my wonderful betas Starchii & Bethany. Fixed up all my stupid little mistakes.


	2. Chapter 2

_It's simplicity in complexity.  
It's in the beauty of the hunt,  
the beauty of the chase._

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* * *

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**Chapter 2**

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Twin pools of fatigued hazel flickered to the heavy oak door once more, already past disappointment with its lack of motion.

New lines of age had appeared on the woman's flawless face in the span of the last few gruelling hours, but like the ferocious wind howling outside the windows, she seemed not to notice. An airy sigh laced heavily with a blend of contradicting emotions left her dry lips then, and she stood, sick of waiting like a wife waiting for her husband to return at night. The old clock that hung opposite her ticked gently, and she counted seventeen subconsciously before the tiny hand struck two.

He should've been back hours ago. But even now, hours after the bustling activity had died down at the Hokage Tower, she had still yet to see even a shadow of the hermit.

Tsunade's long legs crossed the distance between her desk and the door in a few short steps, but with none of the agility of her younger years. Despite the power of her Creation Rebirth, age and nature were things she simply couldn't win against. At this, a wry smile found its way onto her face, pulling with it the creases at the corner of her newly aged mouth. Her grace and stealth however, were things that time couldn't steal from her, so integrated were they with her body.

With a simple tug at the huge door, the wood obeyed noiselessly, swinging open. "Kai," she gestured casually at the unfortunate ANBU stationed outside her door. "Bring me some tea, will you?"

If the woman felt shocked at the Hokage's unusual request for such a drink, she showed no signs of it. With a curt bow, the hooded kunoichi melted into the shadows of the hallway. Tsunade strolled back into her room slowly, the fatigue crawling more insistently over her person. With a small sigh of relief, the tired woman sank into the two-seater couch situated against the opposite wall. The new addition to her office moulded noiselessly to the shape of her derriere, and every time it did so, Tsunade questioned why she didn't bother to get a couch sooner.

If Shizune could see her now, she'd be so proud. Her auburn orbs had passed over the unopened bottle of premium sake so many times tonight she had long ago lost count, but the urge to drown herself in the sweet alcohol was simply not there anymore. _Age_, she thought with a mental sigh. "Hokage-sama!" Kai's voice drifted from somewhere in the Tower, and Tsunade stood up faster than she had in years. The urgency in her voice was unmistakable. Tsunade knew Kai to be the type of woman to keep her composure even when her life was threatened, so to think that it had something even vaguely to do with spilt tea was preposterous. It had to be-

The next few minutes passed in a blurry haze.

Tsunade rather smelled him before she actually caught sight of the sorry pile left that was Jiraiya, her bodyguard carrying the bloodied man in. A flurry of emotions twisted her gut as the tattered man came into sight, but she found that her lifelong medic reflexes had deserted her on sight. The burning questions that had been accumulating in number since the beginning of her stakeout all forced their way to the forefronts of her mind, pushing away everything else left. All she wanted to know at this point was the answer to the question that would provide the questions to all else.

The silence was deafening in the minute it took the old hermit to gather the remainder of his flickering energy to lift his head. In that minute alone, the tension surrounding the three accomplished shinobi gathered in thick clouds, and Tsunade found it miraculous that they didn't all suffocate.

After twenty-three more deafening ticks of the clock, Jiraiya uttered the words that Tsunade never wanted to hear. The busty blonde staggered backwards at the implications of his words, her eyes fluttering shut. She thought she heard the muted _thud_ when Kai dropped her charge to the floor in shock, but Tsunade's mind had already drifted away.

"_They know_."

And that's when she knew that it was really over.

* * *

"Gorg –hic- eous!" the ragged man slurred, his face flush with intoxication. "Massage!"

A self-timed bomb ticked away in Sakura's head, but the seductive smile never wavered from her face. Sidling up closer to the drunken crime lord, Sakura slung her arms around his shoulders and brought her lips to his ears slowly. "That'll cost you, sir," she whispered, her voice husky.

He let out a hollering laugh at that. "Hear that g-guys? She ain't a cheap whore!"

Sakura smiled, situating herself in his lap, straddling what she was sure was a sore excuse of a dick. Inner Sakura, having been repressed for years already, managed to fight her way to the forefronts of the brain, vomiting again and again. Sakura honestly wanted to follow her lead, but managed to keep her composure.

"I know I am,_ sir_," she whispered into his ear, her breath tickling his greasy ears. "But here in the bar? I can't do all the naughty things I want to do _here..._"

Sakura could just hear the gears turning in his already fogged up brain, and she didn't need to look back to know that a perverted smile was on his face. _What a pig_, she thought as she hooked a finger under his collar and dragged him with her, a coy smile on her face.

He resembled an obese leprechaun of some sort. His stumpy composure and obvious sex-addiction made her want to castrate him right then and there. When he stumbled off his armchair, staggering under her strong grip, she couldn't help but smirk, undetected by any other person in the room.

She'd taken extra care to make sure that every single one of them was thoroughly intoxicated before she made her move.

_Don't want them to be ruining our private party_, she sang in her head, her mood soaring at an incredible rate – her business here would soon come to an end.

The petite woman dragged the man, easily twice her size, through the myriad of corridors that held the place together, careful to shield her face from view. She was having a difficult time keeping the carefully masked disgust on her face masked, and she was far too deep into the game to screw up now.

The door they now stood in front of was deep within the labyrinth of hallways of the degrading place. Sakura noted with joy that its surroundings were eerily quiet and completely devoid of any other human presence. _Perfect_, she thought. With more force than necessary, Sakura shoved her target into the room, watching with satisfaction as he landed in a painful-looking pretzel on the ground. She followed in immediately after, albeit with much more grace, and shut the door behind her with an inaudible _click_.

Walking up to him, an almost sadistic smile on her face, she moved until she was straddling his lap on the ground. Useless as he was, the man was still recovering from being thrown on the ground, his face still clouded with confusion. Ignoring him, her right hand climbed up his torso slowly, making a stop at his jugular.

Her body followed until she was lying on top of him completely, her face back at the same spot by his ear. She could feel a smile forming on his face, and the allure to sever the artery under her right hand almost enticed her into making a fatal mistake. Almost. She abstained, instead forcing herself to finish the necessary task.

It was all for Konoha. All for her homeland, all for her family.

She let her eyes flutter shut, ignoring the upwelling feeling of the breakfast she had. "Matsuri," she purred, her lips grazing his ears just slightly. "You've been a bad boy, haven't you?"

He growled, an attempt to sound manly, she supposed. "You've been doing some really bad things, haven't you?" he nodded this time, and she could feel his rising erection beneath her body. She blanched inwardly, but forged on. "_Illegal_ things, perhaps?"

He froze, his face snapping to the side to meet hers. "Wh-"

"Some trade pacts involving the A-ka-tsu-ki, hmm?" She cut in, enouncing each syllable slowly for him.

"Who the fuck are y-"

"Where are they, Matsuri?" she growled, the saccharine tone and smile dropping completely from her persona. "Personally, I think it'd honestly be in _your_ best interests," here, she pressed her hand with more force onto his jugular, "to tell me everything you know."

"Like fuck I will, whore," he hissed.

She shook her head softly, clicking her tongue in disappointment. "I thought you'd be smarter than this, Matsuri." Without a pause, her other hand flew to the lumpy arm that had travelled upwards to lock her right arm in a death grip. Before he even saw her hand move, her chakra scalpel had already severed the muscles in his arm. She watched with mild satisfaction as it dropped back to the ground, a scream escaping his mouth.

"Are you ready to tell me now?"

"Fuck you, whore," he spat, aiming at her face. Unsurprisingly, she was light years faster than him. In a flash, her right hand had moved from his jugular to his neck, snapping it upwards. _Amused_ was not enough to cover the momentary feeling she felt when his spit landed back on his face.

"Really, Matsuri," she chimed, more amused than disgusted now. "Be a good boy and tell me where your little pals are."

"No!" he choked out, his voice sounding pleasingly constricted. With a smile aimed at him, Sakura pushed her right leg down, adding chakra into the action. The familiar sound of bones crunching greeted her ears, only to be ruined by his ear splitting scream a second later.

_What a girl_, she disdained, pursing her lips. This was taking longer than she wanted; she wanted to be out of here as soon as possible. She had already dilly-dallied here long enough.

"Alright, Matsuri," she stated, switching to a matter-of-fact type of speech. "You either tell me, or I break every single bone, organ and structure within your body before pulling the information out of your brain. _Then_, I leave you here to rot. It's your choice. Either way, I'll get my information."

He had the gall to scoff. "Like you could do that! Any useless kunoichi could break a leg or-"

Smiling, she filed away in her mind that breaking both legs was a pretty good tactic. His second ear splitting scream followed seconds after his other leg was crushed, and she looked with amusement at the look of horror on his face.

"Tokuwa! We do business in Tokuwa! That's all I know!"

She smiled and blew him a kiss before severing his jugular.

_Success.  
_

* * *

Sakura was met with a heavyset scowl in her own reflection.

Two months had already flown by, and in the two months, she'd lost any extra stubborn skin that'd been clinging to her body for years. Even she could see that her petite frame was just skin over bones and muscle now, and she couldn't help but sigh at it.

Life in the wild was hard. Her task was hard. Living like this was too hard.

How she longed for the horrendous sheets from Naruto. How she longed for her shoebox of an apartment. How she longed for the stale smell of the hospital that was _home_. Well, it was too late now.

There were no more comforting sheets to sink into at night anymore. Perhaps sheets thin and frigid as cardboard if she lucked out – but usually, camping under a mossy tree in the forest or out in the desert was the most she could hope for. Those were the things she considered _home_ now, with nothing but a few possessions to her name. Among those things was the flimsy piece of black silk that she passed off as a yukata that now lay in a messy pile at her feet.

In short, life pretty much sucked as of now, especially considering her current mission success rate.

_Zero_.

She let out another airy sigh before slipping her civilian clothes on over her body. She'd realized shortly after leaving Konoha (i.e. one day) that tracking down the Akatsuki wearing Konoha ANBU gear was probably not the smartest way to approach things. In fact, if she had tried that route, she probably would have never accomplished _anything_, even if she devoted her whole life to it. She figured that since she was already on a covert, unconventional, and most unorthodox mission, breaking some ground rules was most certainly acceptable.

As civilian Sakura, her mobility range had increased tenfold. Moonlighting as an "escort" whenever she happened to stumble upon promising prospects like Matsuri, she had come near more than her quota of disgusting men for the remainder of her lifetime. Fortunately enough, the information was accurate for the most part. Unfortunately for the exhausted kunoichi, it was mostly always outdated by a few weeks or if she was _really_ unlucky, a few days. She was determined to continue though, because she was convinced she would be there on time one day. Martyrdom it seemed, was becoming increasingly evident in her life.

_Day sixty-six_, she marked down carefully in her mind. Getting from Matusri's village to Tokuwa had taken her an entire day, and she was adamant that she didn't waste another day. With a few twists of her hand, her previously limp cerise locks were piled neatly atop her head in a bun. A small trick she'd learned from Ino that had become surprisingly handy.

She eyed the small and simple yet surprisingly useful set of makeup sitting on the counter, and settled with layering her face lightly. The realization that carrying a makeup set with her everywhere she went as part of her essentials had been infuriating at first, but she had learned to accept, adapt and make use of the annoying weight. She'd come to the conclusion that since it did such a phenomenal job of disguising her during her nightly excursions, there was no reason she shouldn't wear it during the day as disguise as well. It was another thing she'd have to thank the blonde for later.

Nostalgia bit at her heart at the thought of the vivacious woman, but she squashed it with sheer willpower.

It wasn't as if she was never going to see her again. She would, right after this mission was over. Gritting her teeth, she fought to push the pessimistic thoughts out of her brain. She spared herself one last glance to make sure her disguise was impeccable before leaving through the creaky door soundlessly.

She didn't have long to walk, as she'd landed a room right on the first floor, near the lobby. As soon as she stepped into the lobby though, the atmosphere changed drastically, and it seemed to drop twenty degrees. The hallways, without the presence of anyone but her, had been lacking the looming feeling of morbid doom that seemed to hover over the entire town. The lobby though, with the few people milling around, fit in perfectly with the rest of the town.

_What the hell is wrong with this place?_ she thought, resisting the urge to scowl at the heavy atmosphere.

She was willing to bet her lunch that it had something to do with her targets, but she wasn't willing to be too hopeful. She had already encountered two similar cases of towns that seemed to have the soul sucked out of them, but they had been of no help. First, the people had all either been too useless or too scared to say _anything_. Second, they were all quite lifeless, with some bad cases of post traumatic stress.

She almost deigned to pray to whatever deity was up there that Tokuwa would be different.

Tokuwa just _had_ to be different though – she could feel it in her blood, and her instincts had told her as much. Something had happened here, and someone had to be willing to talk. Plastering the sweetest smile she could muster onto her face, Sakura pushed the heavy doors of the motel open to face the overly sunny day outside.

_How unfitting_, she mused, as she took in her surroundings. The motel was situated near the heart of the small town, surrounded on either side by the general store and herb store. She noticed some structural damage to a select number of buildings, and filed that information away for later.

No amount of detail was too much detail.

"Hey, miss!" a voice called from behind. "This would be perfect for you!"

Sakura swivelled around slowly but gracefully, her face full of false curiosity. "What?"

"You're not from here, right?" the man squinted, tilting his sideways as if in thought. "It's a Tokuwa special. You can show it off to all your little friends back home. Neat little thing, isn't it?"

Sakura's eyes went wide, faking a pleasantly surprised laugh. "How did you know I wasn't from here?"

"Your accent, miss," he grinned, and Sakura noted quickly in her head that he was in his early twenties, with a head full of glowing auburn locks. "And, this town's pretty small – I know all the pretty girls here."

_Charming_, she thought, rolling her eyes inwardly. But she beamed at him regardless, pretending to be charmed by his superficial lines. "_All_ the pretty ones?" she pressed on, now close enough to lean against his mobile cart. "Wouldn't it be a shame if you didn't get to know me better too? Your record would be tarnished then, I believe." The last part she added with a teasing smile, picking up one of the delicate trinkets on his cart.

He let out a chuckle. "Damn sure it would."

Beaming at him once more, Sakura closed her fist around the trinket and made a show of dropping it in her pocket. "You'll get this back when you meet me here tonight at seven," she said while walking away smoothly, not giving him a chance to rebut. "Don't be late," she added with a playful wink.

As soon as she turned away from the man, the smile dropped from her face. She hated doing this, hated whoring herself out to pry information out of anything and anyone. The skin on her body was often raw and pink with the excessive amount of scrubbing she subjected it to after every one of her excursions, and she suspected that the last of her dignity would soon be flying out the window to join her self-respect.

But it was necessary, absolutely necessary, and she knew that. She filed away the young man with glowing auburn locks in her mind away for later tonight, and set out to finish the task she had been determined to do before his appearance. So far, only two irregularities had caught her eye, the most glaringly obvious being the lack of laughter in the myriad of streets. There were no children giggling amongst themselves on the streets, no lively chatter amongst the housewives.

Select houses and some parts of the cement had seen some collateral damage in their time, but there was no direct evidence linking it to her evasive targets.

Sighing to herself inwardly, Sakura resigned herself to the extensive task at hand.

* * *

The atmosphere was thick with the scent of inebriety, and she had to resist the pounding urge to retch into the nearest bin. It was too much, even for her recently acquired tolerance. Rotating herself in the tattered bar chair inconspicuously, she tried to separate as much of her skin from the offensive material as possible while still attempting to maintain her dainty image. She was successful, for the most part. "So," she started, a small smile playing on her luscious lips. "How come a guy like you is living in a town like _this_?"

"A guy like me?" he grinned back, cheeky in all its aspects.

She rolled her eyes playfully at that, inwardly rolling her eyes for _real_ at the mundane conversation she was being objected to. "Charming, out-going, nice smile and..." she brought her drink to her lips slowly, pausing in her speech for dramatic effect. "sexy."

A light chuckle escaped the man – Hiro's – throat, the slight joy lighting up his face in the dim atmosphere. But his expression darkened a second later, something akin to nostalgia, she noted, seeping into his features. "Tokuwa's my home. Never really thought of leaving it. And plus...it wasn't always like this, dreary and imitating a ghost town..." he trailed off, a faraway look clouding his auburn orbs.

Sakura felt her interest pique, but she abstained, withholding the myriad of questions that plagued her mind. She had her kunoichi training to thank for that; trained to keep everything in check, even in her modesty, she considered herself to be a commendable actress. "The sun used to shine here, and children used to laugh, too. It's all _their_ fault," he continued after a pause, his voice taking a harshly bitter turn.

_That_ really caught her interest, and a perfectly groomed eyebrow arched upwards elegantly at his proclamation. "Really?" she murmured through sips of her cocktail. "What happened?"

"_They_ happened!" he practically roared. A few men turned to them with disapproving scowls, and a light layer of pink spread across Hiro's cheeks. "They came and destroyed everything – they _broke_ everyone. Those fucking psychopaths, they _broke_ everything – women, children, buildings..._everything_."

Sakura was at a loss when she saw the telltale glistening of his eyes. His overdramatic voice had toned down near the end of his tirade, and had even quivered on the last word. Warning bells trilled in her mind, her trained eyes drinking his image in. Even if she had only known him for a total of about 10 minutes, counting the afternoon, the gut instinct telling her he was being extremely uncharacteristic was surprisingly strong.

The man, in their short time of acquaintance, had been nothing if not self-confident, cocky, and every bit the stereotype for men pumped to the brim with their ego. But the mess sitting next to her now held no resemblance to the man he had presented himself to be. She narrowed her apple orbs at him, but said nothing about her suspicions.

"Sorry," he added after a stagnant pause. "I'm just..._ugh_."

Her dainty features melted into a sympathetic arrangement, her glossy emeralds suspiciously watery. "That's alright," she whispered, shooting him a tentative smile. "I'd be like that too, if something bad like that happened to my home town...it'll feel better if you talk about it."

"There's nothing much to say," he replied, eyes guarded. "I don't know who the fuck they were – freaks in cloaks with red clouds, but they were looking for something, and it seemed as if they would stop at nothing to get it."

_Bingo_, she chirped in her mind, but the suspicion hung heavily to every word he uttered. "That's terrible..."

"Yeah," he said, his voice laced with a familiar tone of finality. The conversation was over, that much was clear. They lapsed into a comfortable silence then, and Sakura watched from her peripheral as he motioned for his fourth drink. The telltale pink tinge on his cheeks was a welcome sight for the petal haired kunoichi. Two more drinks, and she'd make her move, she thought, bringing her own drink to her lush lips.

In one practiced motion, Sakura straightened her legs to stand, tripping over 'something', and landed successfully on his lap, the shoulders of her yukata slipping. A highly clichéd and obvious move, she had long ago discovered that is was the perfect blend of provocative and initiative to prompt men to move forward with their desires.

Her delicate lips curled upwards in a coy smile as she swivelled her head upwards to mutter a small _oops_. Before he got the chance to take advantage of the moment however, she untangled herself from his lap and excused herself to use the restroom, the smile still in place.

She was positive that when she returned, they'd be heading straight for his home.

* * *

Her bruised lips curled seductively into a small smile. She allowed him only a moment for air before she crushed her lips back to his, her snowy teeth sinking into his lips with hunger. An involuntary strangled moan escaped his throat, and Sakura almost deigned to pray a quick thanks to Kami for bringing the end to this horrid charade so near. Clumsy hands had already gone past the stage of fumbling with buttons and knots, and they were too dangerously close to hitting a home run for her comfort.

Thankfully for the coral haired woman, they crashed into his modest room a second later, straight onto his unmade queen bed. The two bodies melted into the ebony silk of the bedspread, and Sakura pried open one eye, diluted to the colour of a murky forest. Satisfied that Hiro's chocolate eyes were blurred with the pull of lust, she pushed herself more insistently atop his manhood, her hands entangling themselves with each other in his auburn locks. She sent a quick apology down to her tongue, which was currently roaming Hiro's mouth as if it were a delicious delicacy, but the attention its actions hogged were necessary for her task.

Grinning into their violent kiss, Sakura pulled away just as her fingers formed the last seal of her self-concocted genjutsu. Immediately, his unrelenting actions of desire against her ceased, his limbs dropping limp at his side. She mused that it was sort of endearing, the way his head lolled to the left, his bronzed eyes glazed over with the effects of her jutsu. There was no ounce of apology present in her veins, but there was some comfort left for him. While she escaped into midnight forests of Fire Country, he would be here, having the time of his life (with her), within her sympathizing jutsu.

Long practice allowed her to gather her articles of clothing at breakneck speed, and she slipped through the shadows of the house before a minute had passed. There was a simple, almost undistinguishable line between trustworthy and simply suspicious, and Hiro's words had crossed over that threshold twofold. She had no other choice however, seeing as she had exhausted most of Fire Country's other small, obscure villages. She could discern no obvious motive for him to lie, but Kakashi had taught her at least that much.

No one was what they showed themselves to be, and even the person hiding behind their first layer of falsehood was probably a lie, too. No matter what his motives were though, his descriptions fit her scenario perfectly (too perfectly, Inner Sakura warned sternly in her permanent jail within Sakura's subconscious) and she had no choice but to accept his (most likely) twisted version of the truth. It was better than nothing, she had concluded when she pulled her move on him earlier.

A simple teleportation jutsu later, she was standing back in the dingy hotel room. Sakura staggered slightly on landing, slightly light headed from...she shook her cerise locks gently. It was probably from the accumulated stress of the past eight weeks. All the preliminary work of cleaning away the evidence of her evidence had been done already, the afternoon light streaming through the half shuttered windows at four, the long days of summer in full effect. The small, standard issue pack sat neatly atop the dresser awaiting her return, and she merely had to sling her katana back over her exhausted shoulders before disappearing out the creaky windows.

Taking advantage of civilians simply wasn't her style, and she made sure to leave an ample amount on the dressers, in place of her bag. The past two months, though hard, had treated her favourably, economically speaking. Her money scroll was significantly lighter as of now, as she had deposited her first formidable sum into a progress scroll for Tsunade. As a little girl of a mere six years, she had once wanted pretty dresses and nice haircuts (a little bit to impress Sasuke, and a little to cover her billboard brow), but her kunoichi years had diminished her wants to the simplest of human desires.

Any excess money she had these days, she donated to her village.

Her lithe body, clothed in the charcoal flavours of night, slipped past the half-slumbering guard easily, disappearing into the lush greenery of her home country. Sakura wanted to spend as little time as possible lollygagging in one place, and though it meant mobilising for a few more hours, and even less time than that asleep in a tree somewhere, so be it.

She could feel it – her mission was finally going somewhere. Hiro's tale, though a little exaggerated, had to be woven from some semblance of truth. Now, with at least some sort of a lead to branch off of, she no longer harboured any thoughts of yielding. The hunt had just begun, and she could feel the hunger for the thrill in her pumping veins.

Pumping-

An uncontainable yelp elicited from her throat when her left foot missed its next perch on the neighbouring tree. It was as if all her carefully trained and honed reflexes had melted into nothing at that moment, and she could only stare up at the beautiful starry night as she plummeted back to earth, her limbs paralyzed in the spur of the moment. The gears in her mind sprung to action, but could only do so much against the onslaught of a thick, sluggish fog. The last thoughts that whizzed past her fogged brain was that it was a poison that she had never encountered before, she would have to get a sample sometime...

She thought she saw the shadows of wispy crimson on billowing onyx, but before her dim emeralds could discern a clear image, her world faded into a dark obsidian, blending the mixture of gems together.

And there was nothing.

* * *

Twenty miles away back in his small room, Hiro's eyes blinked open, a small smirk playing on his lips.

The game had just begun.

* * *

_A/N: _Eh, I'm very unsatisfied with this chapter, but after rewriting it about five times, this was the best I could come up with. Sorry.

A huge thanks goes out to Bethany for beta-ing this chapter for me!

Please leave a review; it's not hard to leave a simple word. It inspires me to write more; knowing that there's people actually reading this, I mean. It really means a lot to me. Thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

_Who are you going to trust,  
When there's no one left to believe?  
When the roads before you are all crushed,  
Which path is left for you to take? _

_

* * *

_**Chapter 3**

**

* * *

**

Karin knew immediately upon seeing the delicate-looking shell of the coral haired kunoichi that she absolutely detested her.

Finally seeing the infamous woman in person had been the absolute last straw. Having to endure Suigetsu's immature teasing about 'her precious Sasuke-kun' seeking out another woman for the weeks leading up to this had been one thing, and then learning the identity and relationship the Konoha nin had with Sasuke had been another. The latter had been so unbearable that she nearly shattered her hand in an attempt to destroy the concrete walls of the holding cell to vent out the vicious tendrils of the green monster that held her in such a tight grip.

She had, in her mind, conjured up cruel, vivid images of a hideous creature in place of the beauty Suigetsu kept teasing her about. The way Suigetsu carried on about her, Karin _almost_ believed that this Sakura or whatever had been as beautiful as he described. "Like a petal fluttering in the breeze!" he had teased, and Karin had wanted to punch him to Iwa right then and there. He knew she absolutely abhorred it when he flirted with poetic language (-in reality, he did too. It was so _feminine_ – except, her reactions were simply too amusing ignore and not prompt), especially with sore subjects like this.

But no woman could be as beautiful as described, and surely no kunoichi with the strength to shatter mountains with her mere fists could be as delicately pretty as Sakura apparently was. Satisfied with her own biased conclusion, Karin set out for the next few weeks, eerily smug that the woman they were planning to capture would never be able to compare to herself in beauty. With her inflated ego restored to its righteous size, Karin never bothered to take the five seconds it would've taken her to flip to Haruno Sakura's page in Konoha's Bingo Book to take a look for herself.

But when they landed in the small clearing, Karin felt like she had died, gone to heaven only to be shot back down to the deepest abyss of hell. Sprawled unconsciously on the forest floor was the drugged body of Haruno Sakura, with a face that could not have been more opposite of what Karin had been spinning in her mind. Long lashes that cast small shadows were noticeable to Karin even on the far side of the clearing, and her lips, though dried and pale, were of such a _perfect_ shape that Karin could only grind her teeth in jealousy.

She snapped out of her trance only when she heard a low whistle from her left. Karin's crimson orbs narrowed at the sight of a grinning Suigetsu, his smile not unlike something the Cheshire cat would wear, his stolen sword slung casually over his left shoulder. "Even hotter in person, I must say," he commented through his grin, striding over to the body that their leader was already hovering over. The teasing lilt in his voice was unmistakable, and Karin felt another jab pierce her heart.

Usually, Karin would be the first to scurry to Sasuke's side, eager to do his every bidding. However today, she was the last to stride over to Sakura's body; a good ten seconds after even Juugo had arrived. The orange haired man swooped down to gather their captive in his arms, as was their custom, but his large hands were met only with the stagnant air. Sasuke's lithe body had already scooped the small body into his own arms, his movements too fast for his subordinates to catch. Juugo merely raised an eyebrow at their leader's uncharacteristic behaviour, but said nothing.

Never in their years of working together had they witnessed Sasuke showing the remotest amount of interest in a hostage. This only fuelled Karin's newfound hatred for the accomplished kunoichi currently gathered in Sasuke's arms, and for the first time in her life, she wisely chose to keep her mouth shut. It wouldn't do to piss Sasuke off now – the familiar look of settled annoyance was etched deeply onto his features again. The only hint of an order he gave was the slightest tip of his head, and in a blur, he had disappeared back into the lush forests with their hostage. Karin suppressed the annoyed sigh on her lips and jumped into the scenery after Sasuke, leaving Suigetsu and Juugo to marvel at what had just happened.

Suigetsu only offered the latter a curious arch of his eyebrow before leaping after his teammates. Juugo only lingered a moment longer, contemplating the turn of events before leaping too, his shadows a wispy blur. In three days, they would be back at their base. The inconspicuous little cottage tucked away neatly in the furthest corner of Waterfall served its purpose well, and despite its shabby exterior, Karin's constant pestering had seen to it that the inside was the polar opposite of the shell.

Though it only offered four bedrooms and a mini kitchenette plus an adjoining living room, it was now home to the four members of Taka. Despite the countless arguments that seemed to always manifest, in their years together as team, Taka had grown to be like a family in many ways. Though Karin was adamant that Sasuke was as much part of this 'family' as the rest of them, both Juugo and Suigetsu remained their scepticism, but much like many other taboo subjects, the topic was never broached. As much as Suigetsu enjoyed tormenting Karin on a minutely basis, shattering her one remaining dream was a line he simply couldn't cross.

Sasuke never shared much about his previous life with them. Becoming a nuke-nin did nothing to help his already screwed social habits, and anything they knew about his past they had learned of their own accord. Being the curious soul he was, Suigetsu had done enough digging to know that the relationship their leader had with Team Seven was not one that could be easily overshadowed by another. He had even offered this information once to Karin and Juugo, but Juugo simply hadn't cared for reasons, and Karin was resolute that the past remained the past.

"If he's willing to slaughter both of them mercilessly, I think it's safe to say that if he ever gave a flying fuck about them, he sure as hell doesn't anymore," Karin had replied once, with a sort of defiance only overconfidence could bring. Suigetsu had merely suggested lightly that Team Seven still held a heavy place in the Uchiha's heart, and Karin's mood had darkened to a stormy black almost immediately. Suffice to say, each word held a lingering trace of denial that was plainly evident to both, but neither had commented on it.

It simply wasn't worth a fight.

Suigetsu skidded to a full stop in the clearing that his teammates had already settled themselves in. Lost so deeply in his thoughts, he had failed to notice that the entire night, and morning as well it seemed, had gone by already. Hiding his thoughts, he pulled out a cheesy grin and plopped down next to the large rock situated in the middle and let out a satisfied sigh. "What's on the menu for today? I'm starved."

Karin beamed at him from her side of the clearing. She looked thoughtful for a moment before voicing with satisfaction that it was dried cuttlefish. Suigetsu's protests died on his tongue when he saw the saccharine smile curling on Karin's lips, and smirked a little despite himself. Payback was indeed, a bitch. Thankfully her earlier reactions had been enough satisfying for him, and he deigned to endure this one meal – he deserved it, anyway.

"She will be left undisturbed," Sasuke monotoned suddenly. At his blunt statement, his three subordinates snapped their heads towards him. Sasuke, as a rule, did not talk when they set out camp. Even when asked a question, sometimes, he would remain in his meditative state, as if the question had been nothing at all. A reply was only offered when questions concerned official matters, and even then, the tone of annoyance was so strong that even Karin refrained from making conversation with him unless necessary. "Other than to bring her food, you will not enter the basement. When you are there, you are not to touch or speak to her. Am I clear?"

Three numb nods greeted him, and his only reply was to shut his crimson orbs. Still shocked at his sudden interlude, and even more shocked at how long and _what_ his message had been about, his teammates only managed to exchange a curious glance before settling down with their respective tasks.

* * *

"Where is she?" the man growled, his incisors glistening a bright white under the watchful moonlight.

"I-I don't know!" his captive gasped out, partially from fear, but mostly from the pain in the collection of wounds he had received from the man clutching him tightly by the collar. "She left, as planned!"

"Oh _really_," the man replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "If everything went as planned, then _please_ tell me. _Where is she?_"

"I really don't know!"

In a swift movement, the wounded man was crushed against the nearest tree, his captor no longer holding him by his breathing pipes. In mere milliseconds, his hands had been replaced by a massive sword, effectively constricting the victim's breathing. "Then you won't mind if I do _this_?" he growled, his voice barely above a whisper. The crushed man however, heard the sadistic tones perfectly.

"Enough," a third voice cut in, hidden in the shadows. "Leave him. It will not do to kill him."

It took a few moments, but the large man complied with the deep baritone that had cut in from the forest. He grumbled unmentionables under his breath, shooting the battered man a loathing glare before swinging his sword back across his shoulders. "The useless bastard deserves to die."

"Perhaps," his partner replied. "But that is not our business. His…superior will decide adequately what to do with him."

At this, the previously scathing man let out a hearty laugh. "Fantastic! Wish I could be there to watch."

His partner's blank stare was the only reply he got, and moments later, the cloaked man disappeared into the shadows. The man was still laughing when he leapt in after his partner, and he regretted not looking back to see the expression on their captive's face.

Back in the clearing under the moonlight, Hiro cringed, current pain forgotten as the fear soaked him through.

The unspoken promise of their words rang only too clear within his mind. What they did was _nothing_ compared to what and _who_ they had promised would come.

* * *

Suffice to say, Suigetsu did not enjoy being around a deprived Karin.

Usually, when her feminine needs (i.e. shower) were met with adequately, her annoyance level was toned down to a barely tolerable level. But when things got to _this_ point, when they had been travelling nonstop through the forests for days on end with nothing but the forest floor and rivers to keep her company, her mood went from prissy to plain _scary_.

Haruno Sakura's added presence did nothing to quell Karin's growing anger. If anything, the presence of Konoha's pink haired sweetheart fuelled Karin's anger more than anything else combined, and the fact that it was _Sasuke_ that had been carrying the kunoichi on the entire journey did nothing to help the fact. Thankfully for everyone involved, Sakura didn't regain consciousness until hours after they had returned to base, the lasting effects of the drug finally clearing out of her system. And by that time, she had already been locked away safely in the basement of their cottage, imprisoned in poorly soundproofed walls.

Suigetsu was infinitely thankful for that. He didn't think he would be able to stand Karin's prissy mood with Sakura hurling curses at them at the top of her lungs while they were in the same area. He was sure he wasn't the only one, but Juugo had remained impassive as usual, and Sasuke had been suspiciously absent since their arrival.

"UCHIHA SASUKE, you fucking _asshole_," Sakura's voice drifted up from the confines of the basement. "I should've killed you last time! What the fuck is wrong with you, you bastard?"

Suigetsu watched as Karin's ruby lips twitched, itching with the temptation to hurl profanities back at the imprisoned woman. But no sound left Karin's pursed lips, and she swiveled around with her dirty dishes, striding towards the sink. A low whistle escaped Suigetsu's lips, and he leaned back into his chair, throwing his legs across Karin's vacant chair. "What, not going to bitch out today?" Suigetsu commented lightly. "Don't you want to bitch out at her for insulting your precious _Sasuke-kun_?"

"Don't push it," Karin snarled. Before Suigetsu could blink, he was crushed between her slim form and the far wall. "Sasuke-kun might've forbade me from doing anything to _her_, but I have no such restrictions against _you_, asshole."

"Oh yeah?" Suigetsu hissed back, the playfulness in his voice lost. "What are you doing to do? Pull my hair?"

"_You-_"

"Enough, you two." Juugo drawled from his seat, eyeing the half eaten peach between his fingers. "If Sasuke comes back and sees you two like this, then…"

Karin let go of Suigetsu's collar as the orange haired man's words set in. Suigetsu scoffed as he shrugged himself loose of Karin, shooting her a deathly glare.

"Suigetsu," Juugo eyes filled with steel, leaving no room for argument. "Go bring the kunoichi her lunch."

"Whatever," Suigetsu mumbled, stalking out of the kitchen. Karin rolled her crimson orbs at the former's childish behavior, but walked out after him to hand him the tray nonetheless. It would take more than slight momentary anger to break the bonds that remained between the members of Taka.

"Suigetsu!" she half-yelled. "Here. Her lunch."

He faltered in his steps at her words, and turned with an expression of mild shock on his handsome features. Karin never regained control of her eruptive temper this fast. At seeing the contemplative expression on Suigetsu's face, she flashed him a tight smile. "Don't worry. I didn't poison it."

Quite against his will, the corners of his lips curled into his signature smirk at such a Karin-like comment. It took a few seconds longer than it ought to have, but Karin's small smile curled upwards as well, her features mirroring Suigetsu's perfectly. A small nod was all he offered his female teammate before continuing on his short trek towards the basement.

He had his guesses as to why Karin's temper had swung such a swift one-eighty. Contrary to her unfriendly behavior to the world at large, Karin was not unlike a mother hen when it came to her surrogate family. Despite the fact that they spent most of their time together bickering, Suigetsu was not unaware of the underlying care behind every insult she hurled their (mostly his) way. Mix in her hatred for their cerise haired captive, it didn't surprise Suigetsu in the least that Karin didn't want _her_ of all things, to break up such a precious relationship.

Throwing open the doors of the basement, Suigetsu was seconds away from hollering a '_good afternoon, sunshine!'_ before Sasuke's perplexing orders in the forest resurfaced in his mind. Positive that if he broke orders, Sasuke would be the first to know, Suigetsu wiped the patronizing smile off his face and descended the stairs by the twos.

Absentmindedly, he noted that her violent threats had ceased as soon as the creaky doors opened. If he'd had any subconscious expectations of what he would find in their detainee's cell, it was light years away from what he saw. If Suigetsu had been a lesser man, he was sure an unforgiving blush would have spread across his features on sight. But as it were, a lifetime as a shinobi that owed his life to shielding his emotions hindered any unsightly ones from surfacing on his features.

"Suigetsu, right?" Sakura commented lightly, cracking open an eye. Instead of bounding, or rather, chaining her to the wall as was their usual custom, Sasuke had instead opted to simply suppress her chakra, allowing her what little freedom her cell could offer. But instead of vying for a way out of her new personal hell, she had made herself rather…at home.

Sitting Indian style in the dead center of her cell, wearing nothing but a tight, clingy sports bra and small, barely-there shorts, meditating as calmly as she would at home, was Haruno Sakura. When Suigetsu made no reply to her oddly light-hearted comment, a soft laugh escaped her throat. "Sasuke treats you guys well, huh?" she asked, her sharp emeralds piercing him.

"Well, I'm glad," she answered herself after a small pause. "For him, at least."

Suigetsu turned to stare at her as this comment left her mouth, his features carefully blank. He knew better than to listen to, let alone trust a word she said. Shinobi lesson #1 had taught him as much, but it wasn't to say his curiosity wasn't piqued. Wordlessly, he slipped the wrapped tray through the bars. They both watched, with a sort of morbid curiosity as the tray clattered to the ground, neither moving from their posts to save their ears from the resounding bang that was sure to follow.

No more words were exchanged, and her delicate eyes had fluttered shut once again. But as he turned to leave, Sakura's voice once again halted him in his steps. "What are you children going to do when daddy abandons the family? Lean on each other for survival?" she asked again, her voice disconcertingly level. The way she spoke, and how she had somehow twisted her body away from him suggested that she spoke more to herself than him, but her words had hit somewhere too close to home. "Wouldn't it be nice if it were really that easy?"

Unconsciously, his muscles tensed at her words. His feet froze of their own accord, and he waited, the unconscious need to know more awakened within him. However after nearly a minute, no new words left her mouth, and Suigetsu had to accept that she was finished with her cryptic messages. Grinding his teeth in frustration, Suigetsu continued back on his original track.

He, too, wondered what they would do when daddy abandoned the family.

* * *

As soon as the last wisps of Suigetsu's shadow disappeared from sight, Sakura let a small sigh of relief escape her lips.

She didn't know what Sasuke wanted with her, but on close examination of her cell, she'd concluded that he meant her no immediate harm. Charcoal coloured chains hung from the center of the wall, and Sakura hadn't needed to check to know that they were chakra restraints. The gross amounts of dried blood staining the once black chains indicated to nothing but the amount of prisoners it had held. Why Sasuke hadn't chucked her there, she had no clue, and why he had opted for the stupid option of a chakra suppressing drug, she again, had not the foggiest of ideas.

Unless years as a nuke-nin had fried his genius mind, she could think of no other plausible reason for him to commit such a stupid mistake. Chakra suppressing drugs were rarely one hundred percent fool proof, and due to her status as a medic-nin, she had found a loophole in the drug's performance a mere ten minutes after waking up. By meditating and concentrating with the utmost focus, Sakura could force small amounts of chakra to trickle out from the temporary shield that the drug had created around her chakra pathways. It was a useless amount on its own, but in a few more hours, she'd have gathered enough chakra to do enough damage to escape.

Hurling unmentionables at top volume upwards, though, probably hadn't been the brightest idea of her time. It had been a little more than momentary anger that had sparked her to do something as childish as whine and cry, but it had brought Sasuke's silver-haired subordinate down to the subterranean levels. The hours she'd spent meditating down in the basement were severely lacking in entertainment, and Suigetsu had served the perfect outlet. A few simple words had been enough to rouse all the insecurities that she knew would be there.

Perhaps, it had been a little overly cruel to play on his uncertainty like so, but Sakura was no longer the timid girl of twelve she had been in their genin days. If she had any remaining feelings of childish empathy for her enemies leftover from her innocent days, it had all evaporated over the last two months. Any sympathy she would've felt as a child for killing, insulting, or maiming an enemy held no place in her heart now and she felt only satisfaction at seeing Suigetsu's poorly hidden feelings of disconcertion.

Vaguely, she realized that she had strayed far, perhaps a bit too far from the righteous path she should've been on as a law-abiding Konoha shinobi. Aside from Ibiki and Anko, she couldn't think of another Konoha shinobi that was enticed by sadistic behaviour. And even then, she knew they both held heavy levels of empathy close to heart when it was necessary. Konoha-nin, as a general rule, had personalities fit to be in the service industry. Always ready with a polite smile, always ready to help an old lady cross the street. That was the way they were brought up, as a human being _and_ a shinobi. But Sakura found that the more time she spent as a covet agent for the Black Ops, the less humane and more like the emotionless killing machine she was made to be.

Blinking softly as the near-pitch black basement focused back into view, Sakura almost jumped with excitement as she felt the growing size of her chakra mass. It was still not nearly enough to break her out, but it was simply progress. The chakra needed to hammer a Sakura-sized hole near the too-tall window was almost next to nothing with her impeccable control - it was the chakra needed to run twenty or so kilometres at top speed after her dramatic punch that was the clincher. That and the chakra needed to throw mundane jutsus backward to buy her enough time to escape.

At this rate, by the time night fell around the quaint home of Sasuke's team, she'd have the perfect opening for an escape.

* * *

A deep grunt, emitting from the depths of Sasuke's chest reverberated through the small entryway upon his entry.

Juugo, who had been reading a history journal about one of the unmapped borderline countries, looked up in surprise at his leader's sudden entry. "Sasuke," he nodded, a little deeper than he would have for anyone else. From his chair at the comfortable kitchen table, the orange haired shinobi caught a brief glimpse of the practically glowing crescent moon. But it was gone in a second, as Sasuke's leg swept the door shut in a fluid motion.

"Where are Suigetsu and Karin?" Sasuke questioned bluntly, shaking the onyx cloak off his back. Carelessly, the cloak flew through the air to land in a neat pile on the couch, its red-cloud adorned pattern showing in its full glory. The scowl, set deeply into his patrician features was clear to Juugo even from opposite sides of the room.

"Sasuke-kun!" Karin beamed, with such vigour that she almost dropped the mug gripped loosely in her slender fingers. Not bothering with the door she had just exited, she flew over, cherry locks flying. "When did you come back?"

Thankful that she had dropped the habit of clinging on to him in a desperate hug every time he returned from what-not, Sasuke offered her his closest version to a smile – a forced, pinch lipped grimace. "Where is Suigetsu? I have a task for you two."

Immediately, Karin's ruby lips curled downwards in what should've been a cute pout. "Suigetsu?" she whined, the playful contempt clearly displayed on her features.

"Talking about me again?" Suigetsu appeared from his doorway, silver locks glistening with fresh droplets. The arrogant smirk was planted firmly on his features and he strode over quickly, clad only in loose fitting training pants. "Mission?"

Sasuke offered a sharp nod before giving them the instructions to their mission. It was a simple task, but one that required immense work. In brisk, straightforward words he outlined the bare minimums of the mission, and left them with a short "leave immediately". He opted to ignore the baffled looks they were giving his words. However, the duo decided to remain quiet and kept their scepticism to themselves – an infinitely wise decision on their part. They had never doubted Sasuke's words before. So what if this particular set sounded somewhat iffy?

But they both mumbled a quick _yes_, and offered a small inclination of the head before setting off to pack the necessities. A few more poorly placed attempts at Sasuke's heart were tried by Karin as she rounded up their food supplies, but Sasuke seemed even more far away than usual. Karin had reached a point where it was easy for her to differentiate between when he was simply pretending to not hear her, and when he truly didn't. Whatever was on his mind, it was definitely something big, because the latter, which Karin deemed to be the situation now, rarely happened. Sasuke was as keen as they got, and she could count on one hand the number of times he had zoned out on anything.

Her previously beaming expression darkened immediately when the possibilities of his train of thought occurred to her. Sakura. What if he was thinking about that wretched Haruno woman still locked up in the basement? But knowing Sasuke, if he were really thinking about her, he'd have gone to the basement to _see_ her already. Satisfied that no visions of pink tresses dancing in the spring lights plagued Sasuke's thoughts, Karin flashed him another smile before disappearing through her own doors.

Without warning, Sasuke shot up from his chair, a momentary look of discovery on his face. The noise startled Juugo so much that he was once again taken from his reading, and could only arch an eyebrow in surprise at Sasuke's expression that could only be described as...having an epiphany? But the Uchiha seemed not to notice, as his brisk steps had already taken him from their small kitchenette, towards his room. Juugo had never seen their leader lose his cool like that, over nothing at all. He shook his head gently and went back to reading.

Sasuke however, had realized something crucial; so much so that he had to wonder at how he had missed it before. As his steps brought him past the plain basement door, they unconsciously slowed, his eyes flickering uncertainly from the hall to the door. What if she knew? What if she knew _all along_, and was simply waiting for the right time, person, place, whatever, to unleash it? This would certainly explain her lack of colourful language directed at him now. At the pace she had been going at when he left for his little...task, it had seemed like nothing could deter the woman from bringing down Sasuke with her words.

Then Sasuke smirked, and he couldn't have been a more perfect poster for Uchiha-like behavior if he tried. There was simply no way in _hell_ she knew, and the tiny snippet of a scroll he had picked up just under an hour ago assented to that. Grinning in Sasuke's twisted way, appearing so much like a fowl scowl that no one would be able to ascertain the difference; his long fingers twisted the rickety knob open. Absentmindedly, he noted with satisfaction that Karin and Suigetsu had once again followed his orders to a T, if the front door slamming shut and their fading bickering words were any indicator.

The musky smell of mixed age, dirt and blood assaulted his senses, and the Sasuke-smile twisted into a real scowl as he bounded down the steps silently. If Sakura heard his entrance, which, there was no doubt in his mind that she did, she made not the slightest of acknowledgements. And if Sasuke was surprised at seeing her current state of (un)dress, nothing akin to surprise, or anything at all flitted across his aristocratically handsome features.

He stood, silent in front of her bars, but Uchiha Sasuke had never been known for his patience. When she made no move to acknowledge him still, after a tense minute had already ticked by, the small tendrils of annoyance he associated solely with Sakura gripped at him once more. "Sakura," his Sharingan orbs spun lazily as they pierced the still meditating woman, his signature smirk playing on painfully delicious lips. "It's been a while."

She didn't even give him the respect of opening her eyes during their inevitable conversation. "Don't fuck with me, Sasuke."

"Really," he drawled, fingering the metal bars lazily. "The last time we met, I recall you begging for the exact _opposite_."

"The last time we met, we still wanted to bring you _home_," she countered, not the least bit thrown off. Had her sharp emeralds been open, the immediate tensing of his shoulder's would've been impossible to miss. The unspoken jab of her words was heard crystal clear by both. Whatever the case had been last time, it wasn't the scenario now. He had heard about it, the switching of his retrieval order into a kill-on-sight order, and he had been as indifferent as ever could be. But surprisingly, hearing it fall from the lips of the one that had been trying so desperately to save him, it _hurt_.

But hurting, and caring that it hurt were on two opposite sides of the spectrum. Another cruel smirk found its way onto his patrician features, and he tilted his head until it rested against the bars. "Ouch, Sakura-_chan_," he mocked, as undaunted by her words as she was his. "Too bad the dobe can't come to save you now."

At the mention of Naruto, her piercing emeralds snapped open, the hostile glare in them impossible to ignore. Unwanted memoires of a Naruto knocking so loudly on death's door flowed freely to the forefronts of her brain, of a literally breathless Kakashi and of an equally lifeless Sai – and the pure, unadulterated hatred she felt for the man standing mere feet away took over so strongly she was nearly physically knocked over. These unwanted memories however, were ones she held close to her heart these days. They propelled her to move forward when the constant failures of her current mission came to be too much, and the images motivated her to move forward, because there was simply no other choice.

"Against _you_, I don't need saving."

"With no chakra, I hardly think your monstrous _chakra_ enhanced strength will do any good now," he turned his head so he faced her fully, the smirk never too far from his face. "Without your chakra, you're even more useless than the genin you were back then."

_Bait_, she chanted calmly in her mind. That was all he was doing. For whatever twisted reason he had in that mind of his, he was determined to get a rise out of her. Not one to be compliant, a smirk pulled at Sakura's lips until her features mirrored his. "Well Sasuke-_kun_, without _your_ chakra, you'd just be another shinobi, without your lineage's last gift to you."

In that moment, she direly hoped he saw red at the mention of such a taboo subject. But he too, had grown and changed since their last encounter two years prior, and his smirk only deepened at her comment. "You don't know anything, do you?" It was clearly rhetorical, but she couldn't help but wonder at his cryptic words. "Whatever charade you're putting up now – it doesn't matter. Your ignorance is enough to prove that under it all, you're still the same naive, gullible little girl you were before."

Wanting nothing more than to blast him into oblivion, if not only with her words, Sakura had to clench her teeth to stem the flow of curses from her mouth. After a tense second, she let out an exasperated sigh, "Fuck off, Sasuke."

Famous last words, they say.

The ceiling above her blasted open with an artful _boom_, debris flying in all directions. Years as exceptional shinobi allowed for both to jump away from the eye of the mess, but neither was prepared for what happened next. In the settling cloud of wafting dirt and fluttering wood pieces, two figures emerged, polar opposites yet complimenting each other in a twisted way.

"It's been a long time," a pause rang through the now thoroughly damaged basement. "..._otouto_."

* * *

_AN: _That was a pretty speedy update, no? :) Chapters might be coming a little faster, now that the plot has finally started to move. _Might_. Thanks to Bethany, for beta-ing this chapter.

I'd just like to say thanks to all the people that reviewed the last chapter. Your words really mean the world to me (-no, I'm not just saying that). Like I said before, I, like any other author am inspired to write more by the reviews that I receive. _Please_ leave a review? ;) it shuffles along my muse, my very _stubborn_ muse, and it's not hard to leave a word. For all the people who simply put the story on alert, or for any lurkers that just read, well. I just hope you're enjoying the story so far, at least.

_Also, _for some shameless pimping now_ -_ I started a new story, called _chiaroscuro_. If any of you enjoy some good old fashioned non-massacre ItaSaku, and also like my writing, please check it out!


	4. Chapter 4

_The beginning of the end,  
The end of the beginning;  
__Which really, is which?_

_

* * *

_**Chapter 4**

**

* * *

**

To Sasuke, his life was like an ever-changing picture, with too many variables and no constants, it seemed.

At a young age, villagers and family members alike had often labelled him with the word 'cute'. It was a memory that, in his early teens he shuddered to think about and now, merely smirked at, for the irony of it all. With a childish laugh and smile to follow, he had traced his aniki's every move with as much accuracy as a small, seven year old body would allow. In that mind frame, he had thought that it would last forever. Whenever Itachi would flick his forehead and wave away his pleas for a little time together, and when the soft gentle smile of his mother would smooth out the frowns of his father – back then, everything had been _good_, even if he had been almost too young to understand that.

In his early teens, Sasuke often heard his classmates adorn him with the label _cool_, and the villagers with pity in their eyes and tragedy on their lips. Nothing had mattered then – what had he left? _Nothing_. Along with nothing, he forgot how to smile, to laugh and to live. Some of the decisions he made had not been perfect – as he knew _now_, but it was nothing he regretted. Perhaps the loss of some of those things had been a pity, but it had been absolutely necessary.

And now, in his early twenties, there were far too many words for him to remember them all. Karin's opinion of 'hot', and that word again, '_cool'_, were too much on the surface to matter at all. Suigetsu's laughing 'fearless!' was one he could agree to somewhat – but perhaps, there was too much untruth beneath that statement for him to truly accept it. Juugo's silent respect was enough for him to acknowledge, but respect lost its value to him long ago, buried deep with the memories of things he didn't want to know any longer.

And then, there was the general opinion, the words that were imprinted on the pages of the Bingo Book – vicious, ruthless, deadly, and in some, _twisted._ These words, coined thoughtlessly and with every bit of morbid intention were the only ones he could tolerate considerably. Understandably, he had picked up, over the course of his lifetime a burning hatred for liars and their trade. But these words, painted red with the blood of all that he had sacrificed, told no lies.

Twisted.

That's what he was – twisted and ruthless. The truth echoed loud and clear from these two simple words, reverberating with the consequences of his actions.

But, that wasn't to say that those other labels, like Karin's star-struck _'cool'_ held no glimmer of truth. It was a gift bestowed upon him by his lineage – with a sharp tongue and patrician features to follow, Uchiha Sasuke was not unlike any other Uchiha at the time. Graceful, beautiful, talented, _invincible_ – these, translated into any semblance of modern conception would constitute for the word _cool_. And he _was_ cool. The aura of absolute superiority constantly shrouding him never thinned to a tolerable level for others, and that was part of what set him apart.

Sasuke was simply not stumped by anything, never without a quick repartee and a sharp glare to follow.

But at the moment, Sasuke felt the doubt claw over him as the reality of the current situation set in. For the first time in his life, Uchiha Sasuke felt truly _lost_. For one, the scene unfolding before him was one he never thought he'd see again. Standing as casually as ever, gracefully upright with a curiously indescribable expression fixed on his face, was none other than Uchiha Itachi. His aniki, the good guy, the _deceased_ good guy.

Sasuke blinked.

Itachi stared.

Kisame let out a low whistle.

"Nice place you got here," Kisame commented lightly, the amusement glimmering in his eyes. "It's a shame about the floor though, really-"

"Itachi?" Sasuke blurted. And, when no reaction came from Itachi, the latter left out the only reaction he could fathom. "What the fuck?"

"I see your manners have not improved even slightly since our last encounter, Sasuke."

"Since our last encounter?" Sasuke replied, bewildered. "You are _dead_. There are no more encounters! I killed you. _I_ killed _you_."

"You are correct, otouto."

Sasuke, to save what little was left of his pride from his momentary outburst managed to snap his lips shut as he digested the current situation. Apparently, his Chidori had malfunctioned when he drove it straight through Itachi's heart a little over two years ago. Either that, or Itachi really _was_ invincible.

In his shocked stupor, memories of the heart-wrenching reconciliation with the dying Itachi lost to the more powerful memories of how much he had detested the elder Uchiha, how extracting revenge had been his only goal. That is, until Itachi elaborated on his eternally cynical words.

"However, I thought that we had reconciled," Itachi murmured, almost as if to himself. "Perhaps, I was mistaken in my thoughts that I had earned your forgiveness."

And then it hit him, like a blast of cold water on a summer's day. Words, memories played within an eternal Sharingan, fires, blood – everything he had learned that night, everything he had spent the last two years proving and disproving again washed back over him in a tidal wave. Orders. Konoha. Forced. Danzou. Mission. Not his fault. _Not his fault_.

If Sasuke had been a lesser man, staggering backwards at the overwhelming presences surrounding him would've been unavoidable. But as it were, the younger Uchiha managed to keep his balance, while his insides fought in turmoil with each other. What the fuck was going on? Why wasn't Itachi dead? Why was he here? _Why the fuck was he still alive?_

"...Itachi?" Sasuke repeated, this time, a little tentatively. "_Itachi_?"

"Sasuke," he acknowledged once more, with a small nod. "We do not have time for useless banter. Do you trust me?"

"Do I trust you?" Sasuke echoed, still bewildered. "Wha-"

"Good."

And before he could truly digest what was happening, what his aniki's cynical words meant, _why he was still alive_, the two silhouettes disappeared, too fast even for his Sharingan eyes. Instincts forced his body to swivel to the right, where the too-familiar chakra of his aniki had warped to, but it seemed then that no matter what he did, he would always be inferior.

In the seconds it would have taken Sasuke to react to the scene before him, the two men had already disappeared from view, through the other end of the crater they had created. Which wouldn't have been a problem, except in the space where Sakura should have been, only a tattered cushion lay.

Which left him with _no_ Sakura, and too many questions unanswered.

And without another thought to leave behind, he gave chase.

* * *

"That's a sneaky trick there, Pinky," Kisame commented, amusement filtering through his orbs.

Sakura, tucked neatly under Kisame's arms, shot the blue man the most dreadful glare she could muster. However, she found she couldn't really summon up the appropriate anger for being manhandled by a half-fish, being abducted from her kidnapper, and most importantly, having her reserve chakra sucked right out of her. She _should_ have been shitting and steaming out bricks at the pair by now for foiling her near-perfect escape plan, but the realization that they had accomplished her objective for her finally hit.

Why would she _ever_ be mad at them for finding her? She had just spent the better part of two months running around the world at large looking for these very people, with less than no success. And here they were, offering themselves up to her...albeit, in her original plan their roles were reversed, with her being the captor - but at least she was now making _progress_.

With a relaxed smirk, she replied with enough nonchalance to throw them off their balance. "It's only sneaky if you realize what I'm doing," she paused as her head was thrown back with a rather rough landing on a shaky tree branch, but continued nonetheless. "Otherwise, it's rather clever, don't you think?"

Raising a nonexistent eyebrow, Kisame exchanged a quick glance with Itachi. "Shouldn't you be thrashing, kicking and screaming bloody murder? You have quite a notoriously fiery temper, Pinky."

The sharp, piercing laughter that was her reply surprised them more than her words did. "I think it's because you guys have this sort of rustic charm," she laughed with a twinkle in her twin emeralds. "I can't help if I've fallen victim to it."

Kisame, not too concerned with her apparent delusional behaviour, appeared much more amused than his partner at this moment. Though Itachi could probably care less if she _did_ happen to be a schizophrenic psychopath, their incessant and completely irregular chatter was beginning to ire him.

"Perhaps you've gone mad with your prolonged stay in that dumphole," Kisame mused as he sent an absentminded glance down at Sakura.

"Perhaps I have," she chimed back, undaunted. "What Sasuke said had a point though. _Aren't_ you two supposed to be dead? I must be seeing things now..."

"Kisame." Itachi's voice cut in with a tone of finality.

Sakura was almost shocked to hear the other man's voice. In the hour they had already travelled together, he had yet to utter a syllable. His graceful movements were so silent that she had nearly forgotten his physical presence between her irking conversation with Kisame and her mind whirling away to process an answer. In response, the bulky blue man only shrugged his shoulders slightly, but offered no more words to their provoking conversation.

_Huh. Interesting_.

Sakura had always known that Itachi held more leverage in their partnership. Any shinobi worth their salt in these trying times would – or at least _would've_, before their supposed death. But for him to shut the bigger and generally more hostile looking man with just one word was a little more than disconcerting. Personally, she had always been under the impression that though the former was the case, people working within the rings of Akatsuki generally held their own agenda, and didn't adhere too strongly to the policies of comradeship, let alone allow for hierarchies within their own partnership.

But apparently, she had been wrong.

"So I _must_ be seeing things now, since you've gone all quiet."

Unsurprisingly, she received no reply.

"Oh, now you've gone and become utterly boring. You _do_ realize what a terrible bore this is for me, to be ferried like a package by you with _no_ entertainment at all-"

With a barely perceptible twitch of his eyebrows, Kisame promptly knocked her out. He concluded that he would never again wish for something as preposterous as an amusing, intelligent prisoner – it was definitely much more than he bargained for.

Beside him, Itachi almost smirked for his victory, unnoticed by Kisame. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of his plan, but it was one less step to take.

And now, the puzzle pieces would all begin to fall into their places neatly, one by one.

* * *

When she awoke again, she wasn't sure what she was seeing.

Her first reaction was to assume it was a hallucination, and a nice one at that. The soft bed she was currently sprawled out on was comfier than anything she had experienced in years. When she shifted her weight slightly, the foam mattress accompanied her, with the silk spread sliding like milk across her body. With a soft sigh, she snuggled in closer with the sheets, digging her exhausted body deeper into the mattress.

Yep. It was _definitely_ a dream.

Her loved ones lying in a state entirely too close to death, whoring her body out to the highest bidder (a.k.a whichever loser had the most useless information), running around the shinobi world in circles like an idiot – in this dream, she could leave it all behind. Including her unfortunate encounter with Sasuke, and then Itachi and Kisame, and-

_Shit_.

Eyes flying open, Sakura whipped her bleary body up into a seated position. And she was once again forced to reassess what the hell was going on. Apparently, the plush bed fit for a Lord was not the only thing she had dreamt up. To match the obsidian satin of the bed, black drapes billowed loosely against the soft zephyr blowing in. The furnishings, though not gilded to match her current royal hallucination, were beautiful in their simplicity. Dark, stained mahogany to compliment the dark shades of the room, so beautiful that she could hardly believe _she_ was the one dreaming this up.

She'd never had a flair for the beautiful, dramatic, or anything of the likes. That had always been _Ino's_ strength.

And now, she was simply confused. She was adamantly sure that she had in fact been abducted twice in two days, the second time by two supposedly dead S-classed nuke-nins. But her situation, or dream, or wherever the hell she was now contradicted that too completely. The simply framed window, _open window_, she added to herself, was big enough to fit three girls her size through simultaneously. And, unless people who had already visited Satan were more prone to sudden surges of kindness, she highly doubted a prisoner would be treated to the kind of accommodation she had now.

Hell, she didn't even live this nicely at _home_.

Quick as a butterfly, Sakura steadied herself on the dark planks covering the ground. The missing warmth was painfully obvious, and she had half a mind to crawl back into the bed to sleep this confusing nightmare away. But she forged on, and with every step she took, the floorboards creaked unforgivingly under her weight. The urge to cringe with every squeak was there, and for the first time since her genin years, she felt like an elephant trying to crawl away unnoticed.

That feeling only intensified when her doors swung open, revealing the topic of her thoughts.

"You sleep as much as you talk, Pinky."

She didn't know if it was despair, annoyance or surprise that surged through her when the blue-man burst into view, but she surmised it was a mixture of all three. Annoyance though, definitely tugged harder than the rest when she remembered the tiring charade she had been putting up for them.

Plastering on a cheeky smile, she sat back easily on the blush bed, swinging her legs out like a cherub child. "Shishou always said that a woman can never sleep too much."

"Nothing can damper your mood, eh, Pinky."

"Why would it? You guys have given me such nice accommodations," she paused here, hoping to glean some semblance of a reaction from the man. Nothing. Disguising her disappointed/frustrated sigh with a whimsical tone, she widened her smile. "I should be thanking you."

He shrugged. "Don't think anything of it. You're worth _much_ more to us than a few spare sheets, considering-"

Kisame smirked. "Didn't think I'd give away all our secrets now, did ya?"

The hope that could barely be concealed in her shining orbs just seconds earlier died down with the realization that he had simply been baiting her.

"Well, here's your food," he finished, dropping down the tray balanced on his fingertips with grace unfit for a man of his size. "Wouldn't want to starve you now."

She watched unblinkingly with seething eyes as he swivelled around and out of her room, the door swinging shut behind with him a quiet bang. The moment his body was out of sight, the saccharine smile dropped from her face. Now that she'd had a chance to really skim over everything that had transpired thus far again, the alarm bells were ringing at an impossible decibel level in her already frazzled mind. Too taken up in her all too necessary game of charades, she had overlooked one detail too many.

Or perhaps she had simply gone mad from exhaustion. Delusional or not, she was entirely shocked at her own lack of surprise at seeing Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame again, considering their 'death' two years prior. She supposed she always knew on a subconscious level that Itachi simply would not die that easily, and Kisame's mysterious death had been all too suspicious too be true. But like the rest of the shinobi world at the time, she had been only too happy to accept that two of the most notorious and dangerous criminals had departed their world.

But this only left more questions unanswered.

Worry nagged at her brain when the forgotten glimpse of something she probably shouldn't have seen floated back to the forefronts of her brain. Though drugs had been running through her system in an abundant amount at the time, she would bet her best jutsu on it that she had seen the members of Taka donning the traditional Akatsuki garb. No thoughts had been wasted on that at the time. Konoha had long ago shovelled out the hidden ties between Sasuke's posse and the criminal organization, and it had merely been passing confirmation. But if Sasuke had been so shell-shocked to see his aniki again, and there was no doubt in her mind that his surprise had been genuine, how could he possibly have ties to the group?

If Taka _wasn't_ part of Akatsuki, what was their goal in parading around wearing their ridiculous garb? Whatever the case, Sakura could barely suppress the rising anxiety within her. Aside from the piling amount of unanswered questions, everything she had learned in the past few days contradicted too completely the information Konoha was clinging on to like a lifeline. Information would need to be passed to her mentor as soon as possible, which lead to another problem entirely.

This place, whatever it was, raised too much suspicion.

Jumping off the bed, Sakura tiptoed to the still-billowing curtains. Emerald orbs squinted of their own accord as they drank in the image of the wide-open frame, practically inviting her to just jump ship. Suspicious. _Way_ too suspicious. Reverse psychology or not, she wasn't going to tempt fate just yet by attempting the stupid. Turning around again, she blew out an exasperated sigh.

Everything about their actions screamed abnormality.

They had gone through an awful lot of trouble to bomb her way out of Sasuke's quaint basement. And, judging by the monstrous trees shrouding the house she was currently in, they were definitely no longer in Waterfall. Ame explained away the beautiful trees and drizzling rainfall, which only added to her list of uncertainties. They had gone through the trouble of lugging her across a country, only to leave her in a room full of escape opportunities?

Yeah, right.

Aside from the window, two doors lined the room. One, she had already seen Kisame pass through twice with no signs of chakra oddities, indicating that there were probably no wards placed on that, either. And the other, she could only assume led to a bathroom, as the wardrobe tucked away neatly in the corner ruled out the need for a closet. To ease her curiosity, she walked over to peak her head in, and she was not disappointed. A snug looking tub, as well as a shower and all the other necessities were present.

All in all, it looked very homely.

If it had been any other situation, she would've snickered at the irony of it all. Itachi and Kisame, _homely_. That was one word she would've never in a million years thought to associate with these two men. Or most other shinobi, for that matter. Blowing out another breath of frustration, she flopped over backwards onto the bed.

There was only one conclusion she could draw from this.

Itachi and Kisame definitely knew what she was up to. It explained away the lack of security placed around her room. And she had no one to blame but herself – in the months spent out in the wilderness, she hadn't been all too coy in hiding her intent to weed out the Akatsuki. If they knew that she had been uprooting all the haystacks to find them, the needle, then they also knew she had no plausible reason to want to escape.

Hell, she should just waltz out of here just to teach them not to underestimate her.

But she couldn't, and that was a bluff they knew she would never be able to call. If she did indeed leave, she would only have to return, and she could bet that their current hospitality wasn't a renewable negotiation. Knowing this, Sakura toyed with the idea of giving up her cheerful facade altogether. But this idea was scrapped no sooner than five seconds into the thought process. It was always better to be safe than sorry, after all.

Still, her explanation left the more pressing question of why they had kidnapped her at all unanswered. Sure, her skills as a medic would probably be beneficial to Itachi, considering his eyes; but the quick glance she had taken of his condition indicated it was a lot better than he let on. Plus, kidnapping her was much more difficult than kidnapping another proficient medic, especially one that was less likely to destroy him on sight. All in all, it made less than no sense. Unless they'd be become so desperate as to want to use her as "bait" to lure out Naruto, she could think of no other plausible reason. Even then, it was a crappy plan at best. They should know that Konoha wasn't so easy to trifle with. Even Naruto, brash as his personality let, would know better than to spring headfirst into a trap of this magnitude.

Any other solutions she could conjure up accomplished nothing but calling forth all the goosebumps on her body. For a few fleeting seconds, she considered everything from perverse fetishes to some insane ploy to world domination, and in the end, concluded that the drug they had dosed her with had not worn off completely yet. Blinking sleepily up at the ceiling, she resigned herself to the fact that this was a battle she simply could not win. With her last ounce of effort, she crawled towards the inviting pile of pillows at the top.

Even as her eyes drooped and she fell towards the comforting abyss, the unsettling feeling of an unsolved mystery did not disappear.

* * *

"You should really eat."

Sakura blinked up, her eyes adjusting to the sudden darkness. Without turning her head, she replied with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. "And since when were kidnappers so kind to their hostages?"

In the darkness, she could barely make out the silhouette of Kisame shrugging. "You're more of an..._honoured_ _guest_ for the time being."

"Funny perception of 'honour' and 'guest' you guys have."

"Kids these days," he grumbled, but the underlying amusement was hard to hide. "Not even a thank you for rescuing you from the little Uchiha's dingy basement."

Better safe than sorry, she reminded herself, but even that couldn't stop the sarcastic comment from slipping out. "Why Hoshigaki-sama, thank you for your unending kindness. You really shouldn't have wasted your energy. Really."

"Brat," he replied, dropping another tray of food down with a loud clatter. "Suit yourself, it's not me who's gonna star-"

The sudden bang resonating from outside stopped him mid-sentence. Sakura assumed it was the front door being shut with no small amount of anger, and apparently, she was correct, as Kisame made a quick retreat to the door, apparently forgetting her existence. His bulky form was already midway out the frame when his next words finally caught up with him.

"Oh yeah. Feel free to move around. Just don't...test your boundaries too much."

"Test my boundaries?"

But he was already gone, the door swinging shut behind him once more with a small bang. A scowl twisted its way onto her face at his stupid instructions, aimed at the innocent door. Really, it was a wonder any of the doors in this place were still intact. She had only been here a while, and she had yet to hear a door being shut gently.

She, however, had more pressing issues to ponder at the moment. Like, how much time she had wasted in a drug induced stupor. The bright afternoon light that had been gently filtering through the drapes had been replaced by the bright streams of moonlight now illuminating her room. Kisame had apparently taken the liberty to draw the heavy fabric away from the frame, leaving her with an unrestrained view of the forests outside.

If she wasn't so sure that it was probably a trap, she might've appreciated the way the soft pitter-patter of the droplets splashed against the walls, or the way the branches seemed to sway to a rhythm.

With a loud yawn, she stretched her arms up overhead to relieve herself of any last remnants of sleep. Almost immediately, she flipped lightly off the bed, determined to finally do _something_. She could hardly remember the last time she had slacked off to this degree, but she blamed it on the temporary mirth of having discovered (or being discovered _by_) something big. The two day (or however long she'd been happily slumbering for) vacation she had given herself was hereby over. The adrenaline though, wore off rather quickly with the realization that she had no clue where to begin.

Communication, she remembered suddenly. Whatever it took, she would have to find a way to send a message back home. Not only was all their information about Sasuke and his team wrong, the breath they had been able to let loose with Itachi's and Kisame's death had apparently been released too early. But first-

Her stomach growled.

If she'd had an audience, she would've blushed at the hideous noise. But at this point, she'd fully resigned herself to the fact that she would have to eat _something_, poisoned or not. Any subconscious expectations of what type of food they'd left her trickled down to nothing when the tray full of onigri came into view. Unable to resist the delicious sight after such a long abstinence from any nutrition, Sakura picked one up and plopped it in her mouth. The satisfaction was almost immediate. The genmaicha too, was still warm from when Kisame had left it there. It was uncanny how they knew exactly what she loved most, but somehow wasn't surprised.

Shrugging, her emerald orbs wandered as she drank in the layout of the room once more. Probably an unnecessary move, but she committed every detail to memory – there wasn't much, anyways. Aside from the silk sheets layering the bed, the onyx drapes now tied neatly back, there was only the matching wardrobe and dresser to remember. She wondered briefly how long she would be trapped in this place, but shrugged the thought away – she had known, when Tsunade had first given her the task, that the risk of being captured was one she had to be willing to take. And she had been – only, she imagined neither one of them had this particular type of confinement in mind when they had discussed the mission.

Regardless, she surveyed the door for only a second more before her long fingers made for a silent grab. In the second it took her to pull the door open, she made a quick prayer to Kami despite being as atheist as the next pessimistic shinobi. Desperate times called for desperate actions, and only Kami knew what lay waiting for her on the other side of the wooden door. A breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding released itself when the dimly lit hallway came into view.

An ambush with mad-grinning Akatsuki members waiting, she could have accepted – at least, that would've been something _normal_ in this completely backwards place. But instead of a bloodthirsty Kisame and possibly even Itachi, the monochrome painting of swaying water lilies greeted her. Dark oak panels lined the walls, and matching them to overall theme of the place, she could only assume it was a cottage of some sorts. Tentatively, she stepped out through the ajar door, all the while remembering Kisame's cryptic words. She half-expected to be fried or something of the sorts, once she stepped out of the "bounds" he hadn't cared enough to elaborate on.

But nothing of the sorts happened, and it was as if the eerie silence was the only thing accompanying her in the cottage. Just when that thought passed through her mind, the spotlights on the opposite end of the hallway sprung to life, illuminating the entire corridor. Apparently, Akatsuki was a very eco-friendly association, as the sudden light was a result of Itachi's footfalls landing on the solid planks. Sakura froze in her spot when his twin Sharingan orbs turned its piercing gaze on her. Instincts told her to look away, but she kept her gaze even.

Either he failed to notice her presence at all or simply didn't care enough, his eyes seemed to look through her before the slightest streak of disinterest flashed across them. And in another second, he vanished completely before her eyes, the trails of his cloak the last evidence of his ever being present. Before her mind could process the increasing bizarreness of the entire situation, Kisame stepped through the same doorway, a look of barely suppressed anger nestled on his features.

He, too, seemed completely oblivious to her presence, disappearing down an opposite hallway mumbling incoherent phrases under his breath. Unlike Itachi, he hadn't even stopped to spare her a side glance.

Sakura waited a minute more before taking a few more tentative steps forward. She had an inkling that whatever they had just argued over, they wouldn't take too kindly to her witnessing it. And Kisame especially, considering his frustration. So far, he had been nothing but good-humoured towards her, but his teasing words were probably about as genuine, if not less, than her own.

Tentatively, she took a few silent steps forward. When no angry Kisame or bloodthirsty Itachi jumped at her, a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding fell from her lips. When she was positive that her path was devoid of murderous criminals, she continued forward, flinching slightly as each new spotlight lit as she passed under. It only took fifteen steps for her to reach the intersection she'd seen the pair materialize at, and she realized quickly that the little crossroad was the center of the cottage.

Nothing lay to her right except the unobtrusive front door, and ahead of her was a hallway identical to the one she had just crossed. It was the two rooms to her right that caught her attention; she could just about make out the distinct silhouettes of kitchen appliances and what she could only assume to be a couch.

As if on cue, her stomach let out a low rumble. Too surprised to be embarrassed, Sakura ducked into the kitchen. The lights, like the ones in the hallway, illuminated of their own accord as her feet stepped within its boundaries. The sparsely furnished kitchen was not lavish or elaborate. In fact, it looked very much like the kitchen a young, recently married couple would share. At this, she let out a small snicker – she figured Itachi and Kisame fit the bill somewhat, if she twisted the facts enough. Unconsciously, her feet led her towards the only thing mounted on the walls: a small, plain calendar, with tiny x's that marked the days that had already passed.

If she remembered correctly, she left Tokuwa the night of the 18th, was locked in Sasuke's basement for about a day...Sakura's emeralds widened considerably when her eyes reached the last day that had a tiny x in the square. Today was July 23rd. Clearly, she had been a 'guest' here for far longer than she had originally thought, unless they were in the habit of randomly crossing out days before they finished. She would've mused the implications of her new discovery for a while longer, if she hadn't felt the sudden spike of Kisame's chakra. His _quickly approaching _chakra.

Sakura, panicking slightly on the inside, did the only thing that occurred to her at the moment, and attempted to act natural. Kisame barrelled in seconds later, his aura seemingly more calm than before.

"Pinky!" Kisame looked up, surprised at her presence. "You've finally come out of hiding."

Her emeralds roamed over him sceptically. "Yeah, I got hungry."

"No shit. You've been out like a light for days."

This confirmed that the date on the calendar was in fact correct. Unsurprisingly, her hackles rose at the hidden implications beyond the teasing words. "What did you guys give me? That's fucking strong."

Kisame shrugged in reply, walking over to the fridge. Opening the appliance, he replied with little conviction that it was some sedative. Sakura raised an eyebrow at this, leaning against the far wall for support. "You do realize I'm a medic? "Some sedative" wouldn't knock a shinobi out for a good four days."

In one smooth motion, Kisame straightened his spine, glass of water in hand and leg kicking the door shut as an afterthought. "You said it yourself, Pinky. You're the medic, not me. How am I to know what it was?"

"Oh I don't know..." Sakura rolled her eyes, exasperated yet wary. "Perhaps because _you_ were the one that gave it to me? Unless you guys usually give your victims unknown substances."

He let out a slight laugh at this. For his size though, a 'slight' laugh still boomed loudly through the small kitchenette. "Perhaps we do, perhaps we don't. Either way, you'll never really know, will yo-"

Kisame stopped short in his sentence when the cool summer draft suddenly chilled the air around them. Both turned out of instinct to the source, and where there had been an empty hallway before, Itachi now stood, regal looking even at this ungodly hour. Had she blinked, she would have missed the miniscule, sharp nod of his head; but she had seen it, and so had Kisame. While it meant nothing to the cerise haired woman, that tiny motion clearly meant bounds to his partner. Turning back to the other occupant of the kitchen, Kisame flashed her another cheeky smile, but this time, she saw all the unspoken dangers hidden underneath.

"We have a proposition for you, Pinky."

And before the word _no_ could even flash through her mind, Itachi had already materialized in the kitchen, his presence silently looming over theirs. She realized then that whatever they were planning was probably less of a 'proposition' than it was a threat, and 'no' was probably _not_ the right answer to give. Sighing, she resigned herself to the fact that it was really a one-way road, but it would be a lie to say the seed of curiosity hadn't been planted. For the sake of the mission, she told herself.

When Kisame saw that rejection had lost the inner battle, he dropped himself casually onto the chair and motioned for her to do the same. "Now, where do we begin...?"

As Sakura took in the scene unfolding before her, recognition of the severity of the situation she had gotten herself scrambled in finally set in. As Kisame flashed her another row of razor sharp incisors, and Itachi simply stared on, Sakura knew that whatever this was, it was only the beginning.

* * *

_AN: _I apologize for a few things: late update, shitty chapter, boring chapter, choppy chapter, etc. I tried and tried again to make this chapter more interesting, but I think it's just one of _those_ chapters: absolutely boring, but so absolutely necessary.

A million hearts and kisses and hugs to those who reviewed (and those who didn't but read/fav'd/alerted). It really means the world to me. I tried to reply to most, but I'm pretty scatterbrained, and if yours slipped, you have my gratitude here.


	5. Chapter 5

_Easily hidden and impossible to rediscover,  
the truth was more absurd than the reality that hid it._

* * *

**Chapter 5**

* * *

"_Never._"

Kisame let out a sardonic laugh at her sudden change in demeanour. The pretty smile she had worn since they had so graciously kidnapped her days ago inverted into a scowl even before the words fully left his mouth. It was a bit much, he supposed, to expect her to keep up the impressive facade for any longer. Kisame leaned fully into his chair, eyeing her with what could only be described as amusement. "So harsh, _Sakura_. It would be..." here, he paused, as if lulling for the right word. When it clicked, the malicious smile only curved deeper. "It would be _wise_ for you to consider our proposition before you utter such a definitive.

"Oh, sure thing," she breathed. Round viridian orbs seemed to shine with genuine consideration for a moment, before dissipating into disgust. "_No_."

"Let me put it in a way you can understand, _Sakura_. This isn't a request."

"And let me put it in a way _you_ can understand. _No_."

"It would serve you well to consider this."

Surprisingly, it was not Kisame that piped in with the last tidbit. Sakura whirled around to face Itachi – he had been silent until that point, stoically watching their rather redundant exchange from aside. Not surprisingly, he was met with the same sarcastic witticism.

"And it would serve your mental health well not to be serial killers. Oh _wait_. Too late."

Silence.

Sakura froze at once, realizing the invisible boundary she might have just crossed; the very boundary, untouchable line that had probably guaranteed her immunity until now. The words had rushed upon her so quickly that her brain hadn't filtered out the good from the bad. They had all tumbled out in a jumble of mixed anger and erroneous judgement, so quickly and unexpected that she hardly believed she just called Uchiha Itachi an irreparable psychopath. The delicate, strangely juxtaposed balance they had kept was now completely shattered.

Sakura had half a mind to shut her eyes in anticipation of what would inevitably occur next – it was enough knowing her guts were about to become the new wallpaper, she didn't need to _watch_, too. Invariably, whatever she had thought was going to happen, was _not_ what did happen.

Itachi swept up from his position, relinquishing his reliance on the wall, and out the kitchen, seemingly indifferent to her comment. When he was nearly out the door, he turned to pierce her with a gaze filled with such complete apathy, she imagined him void of all humanity. But that moment was gone as quick as it had come, and strange as it was, the callousness of his patrician features were hidden neatly behind a mask of feigned indifference. It was weird, she marvelled, that he seemed to be hiding his true apathetic self behind a replica mask of the same thing – it would be another hour before her shock-reeled mind put two and two together to stop getting five. A mask, feigned or not, radiated humanity.

In her dumbfounded reverie, she missed Kisame gliding up after Itachi. Sakura blinked, observing the sudden shift in positions. When Itachi spoke again, his voice was noticeably softer, with something she could almost attribute to respect.

"You are free to make yourself comfortable here – we will be back in a week for your decision."

"What?" Sakura sputtered. Hospitality was the _last_ thing she expected. "You're just going to leave me here? Not even going to tell me _why_ you're trying to induct me into your little organization?"

Itachi had already resumed his original intention of exiting the room, and by the look of his uninviting back, she was exasperated enough to expect no answer. However, as he was padding softly out through the hall, the whispers of his voice drifted the distance, uttered casually over his shoulder. "Feel free to make any assumptions as you wish."

Luckily for Kisame, he was still lingering around, ready to be the martyr to her words. Sakura, in the ten minutes they had already been stuck in this deadlock, came to the only conclusions she could. Turning her piercing emeralds on him, she hissed, "What are you trying to achieve? Do you need a medic? To heal Itachi's Sharingan-screwed eyes? To lure Naruto out? Poisons specialist?"

Irritatingly enough, his sunken eyes twinkled with each new hazarded guess, until the amusement spread to his thoroughly quirking lips. "I'm with Itachi on this – think what you like, Haruno. We'll be back later for a reply."

And then he was gone, vanishing before her bleary eyes.

When the large mass what was Kisame disappeared into nothing, Sakura sank into a rather undignified heap on the ground. His retaliation to her guesses told her two things: either it was a) none of the above or b) all/some of the above and he was simply screwing with her. Neither helped her particularly much, and neither was particularly good, but even she had to admit the latter was marginally better. If it was indeed the former, then she had absolutely _no_ clue what they could possibly want with her. But hope as she might, something in the quirky way he had smirked, and the tell-tale glint in his eyes that screamed _I-know-something-you-don't_, told her the chances of it being the latter were slim to none.

Sakura groaned, curling into herself.

_What had she gotten herself into_?

* * *

"Is it wise to just leave her pondering this?"

Itachi paused half-action and turned to level a stare at Kisame. "If she comes to terms on her own, she will be much more tolerable."

Kisame scoffed. "Like _that's_ going to happen – she's a fluffy Konoha shinobi, through and through. There's no way in _hell_ she's going to betray her village with nothing to cling to."

"We will wait a week."

At this, all traces of amusement washed off Kisame's features. His next words were uttered with uncharacteristic solemnity. "Can we afford a week?"

To this, Itachi had no reply.

* * *

Third day.

Sakura squeezed out a yawn, blinking up lazily at the morning rays. It was almost bitterly ironic, the calmness of the air that surrounded her current place of captivity. The serene woods that shrouded the delicate cottage held the freshness of breath that only a place completely uncontaminated by the human condition could offer. Once upon a time, Konoha and her surrounding forestry had probably held the same quality of minty crispness, but the generations of industry, bloodshed and civilian livelihood had washed it all away. In all her years of missions and journeying, she had yet to come across a place that could offer sincere serenity.

So it was with bitter contempt and mirthful pining that she accepted the irony of the situation. So long as she was stuck in the situation, she could very well enjoy it. And enjoy it she did. She discovered soon after their little 'chat' that Kisame hadn't been lying when he'd called her a guest. Though the number of times she saw either of them at all she could count on one hand, there was also food aplenty awaiting her in the kitchen, the place tidied to perfection. The rooms of the cozy cottage too were open to her perusal, some with great billowing curtains and others shuttered in by feathered blinds. The open backyard, containing a miniature training field was also open to her use.

It was all incredibly..._nice_ of them.

It wasn't until she'd tried to simply walk off the property that she'd remembered Kisame's _other_ words – 'don't test your boundaries'. She found soon after she exited the training field that her captors' hospitality extended no further than the edge of the property. An invisible wall, soft, but sturdy nonetheless greeted her as she tried, time and again to simply walk through. Nothing worked on the transparent obstruction; not her monstrous strength, nor the plethora of jutsu she applied to it.

By the end of the first day alone, she'd resigned herself to the fact that there would be no escape, having exhausted every corner of the barrier. At first, having traced the perimeter to find that it was a circle, she was ecstatic to find a break in the shape. Only after she'd traced the additional shape did she realize it was simply the outline of a triangle – the bastards had drawn the barrier in the shadow of Konoha's insignia, whether to insult her or something else, she had no clue anymore.

Sakura blew out another sigh, her feet leading subconsciously towards the kitchen, the red felt marker dangling without consequence from her fingers. As she passed the calendar, she scribbled another x on the previous day.

* * *

Sixth day.

It dawned on her, quite unexpectedly that she had missed a checkpoint date. Given, those dates were more of a guideline, for you never really knew what circumstances would prevent a shinobi from checking in with the home base, but the only circumstances that _would_ provide a hitch in the pattern were bad. Sakura could just imagine Tsunade pretending not to fret over her lack of communication, which only forced Sakura's spirits to dip even more. Communicating with Konoha from here was out of the question – she was sure they were watching her every move, and the last thing she wanted to do was feed the rat information.

It also dawned on her that she may very well never see her home again. She still had no idea of what they really wanted with her, the bastards had been as ambiguous as could be. But now, even with her future hanging in the balance, she found herself wishing that every creek, hitch, and whisper of the cottage was Itachi or Kisame appearing. She was simply tired of waiting, of this stupid game; whatever future they decided to bestow on her, she'd accept it.

The ultimatum that they had placed for her was, even after six days of deliberation, impossible to consider. The more thought she put into it though, the more she questioned their confidence and motives, especially the former. With nothing better to do than to replay their interactions repeatedly, Sakura found no urgency, no shred of hesitation in their questions.

It was as if they had some secret that when unleashed, would guarantee her compliance.

Sakura pushed that thought from her mind as she slowly sipped her third cup of tea.

* * *

For all her eager, anxious anticipation, she was asleep, of all things, when they did return to the cozy cottage.

If she was unsettled when the first blinks of consciousness revealed two serial killers, she showed no sign of disturbance. Instead, she had the gall to quirk an eyebrow at them, sitting up rather blearily on the couch. Unsurprisingly it was Kisame who, with his arms crossed and for all the world looking like an impatient child, asked her.

"Well?"

"Well _what_?" Sakura drawled.

"Your decision?"

"What do you think?"

Kisame sighed at this, and in that moment, almost resembled an exasperated mother, for all the frustration emitting from him. "Your turn," he mumbled to Itachi as he moved to sink into a nearby armchair. The latter remained perfectly indifferent for a second, as the urge to mirror Kisame's frustration fought to show. In the end, of all the intelligent words and phrases his genius mind could have strung together, he chose one, simple word to represent all his misgivings.

"Why?"

Sakura felt incredulous. "_Why_?" she nearly stuttered, "Because you guys are Public Enemy #1. _Konoha's_ enemy. _My_ enemy."

Silence hung between them for a second, before a soft breath escaped the stoic man. Whatever she had been anticipating for his reaction to be, it was _not_ what he offered. At the mention of Konoha, he seemed to relax, and she couldn't help but feel that she had fallen into a trap of some sort. What the 'trap' could be, she had no clue – how could her declaration of allegiance to Konoha possibly benefit him? But whatever his wild card was, he and Kisame seemed to have the utmost confidence in it.

"Then, you are only refusing this mutually beneficial agreement for Konoha's sake?"

"Mutually beneficial?" Sakura wanted to laugh.

He nodded once, ignoring her sarcastic tone. "Consider the proposition with Konoha out of the equation," he paused here, as if to let her reap his words. "There is no downside for you."

There were so many things wrong with his statement, that Sakura, already tired of this charade only meekly protested, "Konoha will never be out of the equation."

"You are not denying the truth behind my words."

It was more a statement than a question, but by the lack of an appalled expression, Itachi figured he had hit somewhere close to home. To her merit, she remembered her place in a moment, and defiance once more shielded her face. "I have no wish to become a soulless murderer."

"Oh? Do the shinobi of Konoha no longer work to kill?"

The protest died on Sakura's tongue as he continued, not giving her a chance to speak.

"What makes you believe that shinobi with loyal ties to their countries are not soulless murderers?" he questioned, his ruby gaze piercing her emeralds. "What makes you believe that _you_ are not soulless?"

"That's different," she replied, almost on autopilot. "Konoha's different."

"Is it?"

"Is it?" she echoed, exasperated. All she wanted was for them to dish out their punishment for her imminent refusal – she was tired, oh so tired of everything. "Of course, _you_ wouldn't know. Whatever you guys say, I _won't_ agree. And I doubt you'll be releasing me anytime soon, so do as you wish. You're wasting my time and yours."

"You are willing to sacrifice your life for a village that does not value you in the slightest?"

"I'm a shinobi – we're all tools for our village. But unlike what _you_ might believe, we're a _family_ in Konoha."

"Family," he deadpanned back.

"We happen to _care_ for each other."

"Right," he nodded once, a sharp incline of his head. She could tell by the almost-smug glint in his eyes that he was not buying any of it. "Tell me something, _Sakura_. Do you have a small, almost obscure seal on your lower back?"

At once, all traces of exasperation, smugness, of _anything_ were wiped from her face. _How did he-?_ She recovered after a moment of shock. "No," she lied.

Unsurprisingly, he saw straight through her. "And have your _family_ ever explained to you what that seal is? What it holds?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"They won't tell you," he urged, prompting a reaction. He got what he was looking for when her shoulders stiffened slightly. "They won't tell because it's a skeleton in their closet. The biggest skeleton."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"But you want to know – you've tried to figure it out, but to no avail."

It almost seemed like a one-sided conversation, at this point. Itachi was speaking the words that she herself could not, did not _want_ to, superficially, at least. In truth, his words were what her heart yearned to speak. She wanted to shout to the world that _yes_, it was so damn frustrating that no one in the world seemed to know what that stupid seal was for. Instead, she sneered up at Itachi, as defiant as ever. "I _said, _I have no idea what you're talking about."

For a moment, Sakura thought he would rebut again, pulling out his irrefutable proof. Oddly, she was relieved, almost thankful for what he was about to do. But in another second, the tension eased from his face and he seemed to relax. "If you insist."

Sakura's mind went blank in that moment. _What the - ?_ He wasn't supposed to just _give up_ like that. He was supposed to give her the answers she so hungered for, while she remained defiant – that way if she died, she would at least have her answers. She would die without regrets, without –

In that one second of preoccupation, with her guard slightly dropped, Itachi disappeared. Sakura had no chance to retaliate or even properly think before he was pressed up dangerously against her, effectively trapping her. On another day in another life, their position might have seemed erotic, the way his hands, one against her hips and another against her neck, were positioned, and the way their bodies, pressed so closely together the distance between them was nonexistent. But to two shinobi, it was the ultimate position of victory.

Instead of feeling fear, she could only feel disappointment and anger at herself, for committing such a fatal mistake. All those years of training, and she was still like a child when faced with the likes of Uchiha Itachi, she thought bitterly. She felt his fingers press into her skin, and dimly, she noted that it was roughly where her seal was. And then, the most unexpected thing happened. A warm feeling, almost pleasant, spread through her at his touch. Thankfully, she had enough sense left within her to realize it was not to some insane attraction to the older Uchiha, but a sensation emanating from the dead seal.

As undignified as it was, she jumped at the feeling.

When she got over her initial shock, he was already back in his original spot, looking as if he had never left in the first place. She glared accusingly at him, as if he had just violated her, rather than bringing her closer to solving the one unsolvable mystery in her life. To this date, nothing she or anyone else tried could elicit a response from the seal. She had researched every book, consulted every wise person she knew about it – and she was no closer to figuring out what it was than the day she started. The only thing she had yet to try was to peel the damn thing off – but she had yet to reach that level of desperation.

And then Itachi comes along, all nonchalant, and manages to provoke it with little more than a poke.

"We have the answers you want, Sakura," he paused, almost dramatically. From the glazed look in Sakura's eyes, he knew that he had captivated her. "All you have to do is say yes."

Paralyzed for the moment, Sakura almost said it. One syllable, and she would be free. Free from the agony of ignorance, free from the frustration of not knowing about _herself_. There would be no more nights feeling uneasy about some sort of impending doom related to the stupid thing, and no more hiding the damn inky lines from the world. His knowledge was enticing, and he knew it – the sweet _yes_ was on the tip of her tongue when the images flooded her mind. Laughing with Ino in the fields as children, slurping ramen with Naruto, learning to save lives with Tsunade, smiling and laughing and loving-

How could she give that up? How could she even _consider_ betraying her home for such a selfish reason?

She had made up her mind, but the sigh of regret was not suppressible. "My answer is still no."

Again, there was no spark of anger on either of their faces. Itachi simply nodded, and dropped down into the couch nearest him, gesturing for her to do the same. "Unlike Konoha, we have nothing to lose by telling you exactly what is sealed within you."

"And?"

"We're willing to do just that."

Sakura raised a brow at this. "In exchange for what? I'm not changing my mind."

"All we want is for you to reconsider after you learn the truth," Itachi replied.

"It's your one powerplay to get me to join. You'll give it up even without reassurance that I'd join?" Sakura retorted sceptically. The question itself was actually more rhetorical than anything; she knew without a doubt that some sort of a trap was probably involved. But trap or not, she had already thrown everything to the wind – she would take the consequences, die if needed, if only she could get the answers. She was desperate, and desperate people did funny things. Finally, she relented with a sigh, before either had offered an answer to her pointless question.

"Reconsideration and nothing more," Sakura replied slowly.

Kisame grinned over cheekily at her, "That's all we're asking for, Haruno."

This, of course, did nothing to ease the increasingly flurry of nerves fluttering about within her. Suddenly she felt faint – not the kind that came from physical exhaustion, from chakra exhaustion or sleepless nights. No, the wave of dizziness was strikingly similar to the feeling she had the day she broke her great grandmother's coveted vase at the age of six. It was a side effect of fear, of the knowledge that she had made an extremely bad choice, and that _there was no going back_.

"Nineteen years ago, Konoha was attacked by the Kyuubi," Kisame began impatiently. "But you already know that, being best friends with the Kyuubi brat and all. But what you _don't_ know, is that the Kyuubi was going after something in Konoha that night. Something _huge_."

The blue man paused here, shooting Sakura an expectant look. It was met with a blank stare – usually, her busy mind would have formulated a million possibilities by now. But for this, for reasons unknown to her, she didn't want to speculate, didn't want to bring hope – or fear – unnecessarily to herself.

Kisame sighed. "Needless to say, the fox didn't get it – the Yondaime was quick to seal him up. But the thing he was after was still very much free for the taking, hidden rather poorly behind half-assed seal-jutsus. Of course, Konoha was quick to jump on _that_, once they realized the dangers it implied."

"And that is where you enter the picture," Itachi finished for his partner.

It did not escape Sakura's notice that both men had skirted around actually naming what 'the thing' was, but she was too preoccupied with being in denial to _really_ take notice. Whatever this 'thing' was, it was clearly powerful and dangerous, and was definitely classified, _classified_ information. So classified that even she, one of the Hokage's most trusted people, did not know about it. She shoved that thought away – who knew if Tsunade even knew about it or not? Kisame had a way of making it sound like an impending apocalypse.

Regardless, she swallowed hard, her brain whirling but still unable to truly comprehend their words.

_Quick to jump on that_? There was really only one way to interpret that – a quick, easy, probably ill-thought out solution had been executed to superficially fix the problem. And judging by her current situation, and the expectant gazes both men were shooting at her, she didn't need to guess twice that the 'solution' probably involved her.

Of all the emotions that escaped her at that moment, only one prevailed – acceptance. When the expression that conveyed her ultimate resignation crossed her features, she could tell immediately that it was _not_ the reaction they had been expecting. She allowed herself a quiet sigh, before levelling a heavy look in their general direction. "So this thing," she waved her hand through the air generally, as if that explained all, "It has to do with me somehow. And this seal."

"Yeah," Kisame nodded, eyeing her with something akin to suspicion.

"And I'm guessing it's something I'm _not_ supposed to know."

"Pretty much."

"And it's potentially dangerous? To me, at least."

Kisame nodded again, the suspicion dropping from his face. They were finally on the right track – the kunoichi had one hell of a weird thought process, but she was finally getting the hint –

"Okay."

Both men froze.

"_What_?" Itachi cut in. The icy edge in his voice made Sakura flinch inwardly.

"It's for the good of Konoha, right?" she shrugged. "If it'll keep my home safe, whatever it is, I'll guard it. And I'm guessing _you_ guys can't get it, as you would've done so already, if it was really what you were after."

"You're _okay_ with this?" Kisame marvelled at the depth of Konoha's nonsensical teachings. He had long since been a firm believer that a shinobi without roots was the most dangerous of them all – but seeing Sakura, willing to sacrifice herself for her _bonds_... That was an entirely different level of dangerous that he had never before considered – he filed that thought away for later.

"Naruto does it. I know I'm not as strong as him, but hell, I'll try my best," Sakura continued, level headed and steady. "If that was the best you guys had to sway my opinion, then my answer is still no. Do whatever you wish with me. But know this: whatever you do, I will die, or be tortured for the rest of my existence before betraying Konoha."

To her surprise, Kisame actually laughed. "You think you're like _Naruto_? Like the Kyuubi brat? Oh, sweetheart, you are so, so, _so_, wrong."

Sakura tensed. "What?"

"Despite how he was treated as a child, Naruto is the village hero. The kid's got respect. The village needs him, he's an indispensible resource. The Kyuubi is something they can use to their advantage. But the thing _you're_ guarding – Konoha wants nothing more than to be rid of it. But you see, they didn't know how to, its sheer power made it nearly impossible. Until _you_ came along, the perfect solution to their dilemma. To them, you are simply collateral damage."

"Naruto is the thorn they cannot ignore. A pain, perhaps, but useful all the same. You, however, are the annoying stain on their pure white record," Itachi supplied. "Not useful, impossible to get rid of, and above all, a potential threat."

The scepticism must've shown on her face, as Kisame barged on impatiently.

"That seal is a death seal. You are a living _trap_. Whatever idiot is ignorant enough to try and unseal it..." Kisame trailed off, and Itachi continued for him. "The seal will kill them. And you, as well."

Fleetingly, Sakura noticed the odd dynamic between the two, the feelings of almost-fraternity afloat between them. It was almost _human_. But none of that mattered, not in this moment, and never would again. The logic in all their words was convincing, so enticing, just inviting her to believe – but she remembered, and checked herself on time. Shinobi were taught to speak in riddles, to trigger in another's mind something entirely untrue.

She hummed in mock agreement, "And I guess that's why you guys aren't using me for your own purposes then? How absolutely _convenient _of it to work like that."

Again, Kisame replied with his eccentric laugh. "Oh, you're a feisty one," he started, shrugging. "But you're wrong. It's fool's gold, after all."

"Then you guys are fools for thinking that I'd believe you."

"Look. Think about it for a moment, use that infamous ingenuity of yours," Kisame continued, a little exasperated. "Where do you come from? Are you a Hokage's daughter? Are you the heiress to an all-powerful clan? Hell, you're not even from a shinobi family. No one could've predicted that you'd become one of the most powerful kunoichi around."

Sakura's sharp viridian orbs narrowed. "What's your point?"

Kisame shrugged. "It's karma. The baby they destined for a short, civilian life became one of their most powerful assets. You've put Konoha in a really awkward position, Pinky."

"In short, you're supposed to be dead already," Itachi finished. "But instead of letting you fall into enemy hands as originally planned, they've taken to protecting you, because they need you."

_This is absolutely absurd, _she thought. The topic of their discussion was absolutely absurd. The fact that she was still _alive_ was absolutely absurd. The fact that they were having a (somewhat) civilized argument was absurd. Deciding to ride the wave of insanity a little longer, she asked the question that had been burning in her throat since Kisame started his story. "What exactly is _it_?"

A row of razor sharp incisors greeted her as Kisame smirked widely. "Thought you'd never ask, Pinky."

He and Itachi exchanged a brief glance before Itachi turned the full force of his gaze on her. It disconcerted her for a moment, but could not level the force of the word he spoke next.

"Immortality."

* * *

It took a minute for Sakura's hysterical laughter to stop, and another thirty seconds for her to regain enough sense to become coherent again.

"Immortality?" she choked, still high on the joke. "Do I _look_ like a moron to you? Or maybe you two are the morons. Come on – _immortality_?"

Kisame shrugged. "Immortality."

"Okay, okay," she laughed, easing slightly off her hysteria. "Say I believe what you're saying, this immortality crap. But you expect me to believe that it's 'fool's gold' and that no one wants it?"

"Everything has a price," Itachi added in quietly. "The price of immortality is high."

"So high that only an idiot would go after it."

"What is it – death?" Sakura snorted.

Itachi shook his head sharply. "Mortality."

This time, she didn't even fight to keep the scepticism off her face. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"The exact logistics of it will take time to explain, but simply put, immortality in this form is superficial and fragile," Itachi replied. "Your soul lives in, but your mortal body, in which you are stuck decays, rots away – on the inside. On the outside, you stop aging after a certain point, but soon enough, your mortal body will be hollow."

Unwillingly, Sakura shivered at the goosebumps that now covered her body. She still had reason to be skeptical with him, but something about his words and his demeanour made her certain that he wasn't kidding. Immortality. It seemed too much to comprehend, too overwhelming to be possibly true. And she was the key to this out-of-the-world power? For the first time since the start of this ordeal, Sakura felt faint. She didn't know if this outrageous story was worth believing, but her instincts, _everything_, pointed towards belief. But there was still one more question that they had skirted around.

"Why do _you_ want me then? I'm clearly a death trap. I can be of _no use_ to you."

Again, Kisame shrugged. "You're the best medic this world has to offer at the moment. Our organization has suffered a few losses recently, and replenishing the ranks has become a necessity. You're the perfect candidate."

"For my abilities, and nothing else?"

Both men nodded in unison.

"Then, no."

"You still don't believe us," Kisame deadpanned.

"Frankly, I don't know. But it doesn't matter. Even if I'm meant to be the scapegoat of their plans, my answer is still no. No matter what, you can't cut away the bonds that tie my heart down."

"Not even for the knowledge? We can help you. Like Itachi said, it's mutually beneficial."

"No."

"Seriously, Pinky. You're fucking stubborn-"

"Enough, Kisame," Itachi's voice pierced through their conversation, and surprisingly, unsurprisingly – Sakura didn't know if she even had it in her to be surprised at _anything_ anymore – Kisame snapped his mouth shut. "The decision is hers to make. We are merely here to provide her with facts. If she does not believe us, then so be it."

"What, that's it?" Sakura asked. "You'll let me go now?"

Itachi nodded once. "If that is still your choice."

Sakura was incredulous as she got up to leave. The feeling only increased as she walked slowly towards the door, and neither man made a move to stop her. When her fingers brushed the doorknob though, Itachi's voice once again pierced the silence. Sakura didn't know if she was relieved or angry; the tiniest bit of discontent, of unfulfilled business had welled up inside her, and it was agony.

"There's just one more thing."

Sakura paused, but didn't turn back, which, as it turned out would have been an unnecessary gesture anyways. She easily caught the scroll that was whipped at her between her slender fingers, and, if she'd been facing them, they would have seen the arched brow on her face.

"Read it. It will give you the answers you seek."

Sakura stayed only a moment longer before dashing out, disappearing into the night air.

* * *

That night, thirty-three miles and one town away, Sakura was torn.

The scroll that Itachi had so haphazardly thrown at her still lay sealed, albeit slightly crumpled, between her fingers. _The answers I seek, huh_? Sakura mused. She had no doubt that it probably did. On her journey here, she had had ample time to mull everything over. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense, and the less sense it made. Immortality was still too far-fetched for her to properly accept. But that negative basis, of using her as a sacrifice of some sorts, it fit perfectly.

It made sense now why no one seemed to know anything about it. But if one part of their story clicked, the other had to as well. It made no sense for them to lie about what the power contained, and be truthful about Konoha's deception, as the latter was clearly the larger hurdle of disbelief. But immortality? It was impossible.

In effect, Sakura was stuck in a vortex of indecision.

One part of her shied away opening the scroll, for fear of its contents. It was probably harmless, unless they had been tricking her all along, which she was believing less and less. More important than that though, was the other fraction of indecision that kept her from contacting Konoha. She had no idea why she hesitated on that front, why she was _still_ hesitating. She had made her decision, had told _them_ of her decision, there was nothing to fear.

Right, nothing to fear.

Taking a deep breath, Sakura flicked her fingernail carefully under the seal that held the scroll together. The suspense was almost too much for her, but the scroll flipped open a second later, as if it had been charmed to lay flat. Pages upon pages slipped out, fluttering to the ground. In the glimpses she caught before they landed, she saw the telltale marks of a classified file – blacked out marks, red letters and pictures stamped with unfriendly insignias.

Then, she saw it.

Vivid emeralds widened, and the papers she had caught on their flight down slipped from her fingers as she staggered back. _No. No, no, no_. Disbelief was not enough to describe the feeling that rushed through her, the peeling, ripping sensation that spread through her body.

It was written in the Sandaime's hand – she recognized it on sight – and signed, sealed, by all that mattered on the decision. Tsunade. Homura. Kakashi. More names she couldn't see, for the blurriness had taken over her sight.

Target. Goal. Progress.

It was all there, it was all the proof anyone would ever need. Blindly, Sakura started rummaging through the pile of unorganized paper now littering the motel floor – every new page, every other page buffered that one page. Evidence, midway reports, notes. Her eyes widened even more when she flipped by one dated from two and a half months ago, approximately near the time she left, marked with a bright red sticker. She knew what that sticker meant; she had used it to tag many a folder in the past.

It signalled a change in plans. It signalled an executive order. It signalled the end.

Sakura sank down into a messy pile, shaking slightly, but not quite devastated, not quite angry, not quite bitter.

She realized then that she had no other choice: it was all over.

* * *

"You knew what was in this," Sakura said. There was no accusation in her voice, nothing at all. It simply a statement of fact that mirrored the apathy on her pretty face.

"Yes."

"And you let me go like that, and risk the possibility of me never reading it?"

The look he shot her told it all, and she sighed, folding the paper back into her pocket. It had taken her two days to recollect herself, and another two to finalize everything. Everything had in truth already been decided the moment she saw that piece of paper. All choices had been stripped from her, but it had taken her that long, _four days_, to come to terms with everything.

And now, she was ready to embrace the truth (in reality, she didn't think she would ever be ready to accept the bare truth – but this was as close to acceptance as she was going to get). Itachi and Kisame had been waiting at the cottage – Itachi patient, and Kisame restless. But they both seemed unsurprised at her appearance, and Kisame even had the gall to make jokes with her.

Itachi simply nodded at her sudden change in decision, and Kisame patted her heartily on the back.

"Welcome aboard, Haruno."

* * *

_A/N:_ I apologize for how absolutely late this chapter is. Thank you for those of you who've reviewed, alerted, favourited, read, and are still waiting to read this story. It really means a lot to me.

For the record, this is unbetad**.** My beta seems to have disappeared, and if you'd like to fill her place, I'd really appreciate your help.


	6. Chapter 6

_There is reason in insanity._

* * *

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"It's been five months. You're still defending her loyalty?"

Tsunade levelled an indifferent stare to the man persistent enough to voice the same question month after month. While her empty gaze betrayed nothing, she was more than stirred internally. Her absolute faith in Sakura had dulled somewhat – it was only a slight waver, but any crack could prove to be fatal. The first month, she had been okay with it, if not a little impatient. Second month, the unease set in. Third month, she was absolutely worried. Fourth month, Tsunade simply didn't know what to think. Now, the backwards mentality had begun to set in.

Instead of voicing any of this, Tsunade simply said, "It's been five months. You're still wasting my time with your stupid questions?"

The elder scoffed, but snapped his mouth shut. After this exchange, the tension in the room seemed to thicken to an impossible level, and the other attendees shifted in discomfort. No other sound permeated the spacious meeting room until Koharu suddenly seemed to remember some asinine detail and brightened up.

"And what have you say to this evidence?" he slid a thin manila file to Tsunade, fully smug.

Tsunade knew the stubborn old man well enough to know his empty self-confidence knew no bounds, but still, she worried. Evidence? Impatiently, she opened the folder. Inside was simply one sheet of paper, intel regarding the latest Akatsuki movements. Scanning it quickly, her features paled considerably when she saw the words _pink hair, unidentified kunoichi_. Everything made sense suddenly, every piece clicked. For five seconds she remained in this disillusioned trance before she returned to her senses and slammed the folder down.

"And where would _you_, Koharu-_sama_, in your sheltered glory have gotten this intelligence from?"

He coloured at her question, but remained defiant. "I have my sources."

"We're all on the same side here. If you have a source that could accurately track Akatsuki movement, why have you not shared it until now?"

"Well-"

"The only evidence you've presented points to either your disloyalty or its unreliability. This is useless to our cause."

With this, Tsunade pushed her chair back rather violently and stormed calmly out of the room.

* * *

Sakura was reminiscing.

In her memories, Sasuke was a grumpy pre-teen, and Naruto a loudmouth. Kakashi of course, was never far from his orange-backed porn. They were at Ichiraku, and they were _all_ enjoying the afternoon together, laughing. Even though Sasuke had spent the majority of the time scowling, and Kakashi's expression had been dutifully hidden behind his mask, Sakura had just _known_ they were happy. It had vibrated through the air, and had engulfed them in the fumes of mirth.

And then she had blinked, crash landing herself back to reality. The picture that came into focus was a far cry from the noise and boisterous atmosphere of Ichiraku at noon. Instead of happy civilians slurping away at their beef or chicken ramen, all Sakura had was a steaming cup of genmaicha, today's newspaper, a few tea biscuits and an empty kitchen. The sparse, yet delicately neat kitchen had long since become familiar to her – she had, after all, spent a week of captivity in the cottage, with nothing better to do than eat, sleep, read and train. But everything felt a little different now.

Five slow months had crawled by, so slow that she had gone beyond the point of noticing. All the days melted into the next, and she found that if she didn't lose track, she was losing the will to keep track. It wasn't only her surroundings that were different, it was _her_. She could feel it, the lethargy towards life and her tasks that had taken over her. Before, in Konoha, she had a reason to fight. She didn't always have a clear view of that reason – sometimes, it was Sasuke, whether to lug him back or kill him, other times, it was to protect her loved ones – but she _had_ a reason. Now, she found that more often than not, she did things simply because she could, and not because she _should_.

Like now. She couldn't remember a single time she had sat down on a Tuesday morning at ten o'clock, kicked back and relaxed with a cup of tea in Konoha. It had been weird, at first, to not be doing something productive with her life. It had been an inner struggle to not go to the nearest village and heal all the sick people into oblivion, but, like everything else, she had simply gotten used to it. But now, so far into this life, she was used to it. Absentmindedly, she filled out the crossword in the newspaper.

One thing she couldn't get over was how awfully _domestic_ everything was.

It was one thing she didn't expect this life to be, not even after she had gotten to know Kisame and Itachi better. The thought that being in the Akatsuki felt homely was laughable, yet it was exactly that - being laughable didn't falsify the truth, so Sakura found herself laughing quietly now and then when the feelings of domesticity hit her. She had no doubt that she would be having one of those in a little while when Kisame and perhaps Itachi returned home.

_Home_.

She had lost track of the day that she started calling the cottage _home_. In truth, she didn't know what else to call it. The word fell from Kisame and Itachi's lips so easily that she had simply followed, and now she couldn't imagine calling it anything else. The pang from the betrayal of her _other_ home though, was a sting that came that came every time she uttered the word. But she'd learned to deal with that ugly pain, and was now simply able to ignore it.

Sakura hummed quietly as she padded softly down the hallway to her room, a different one than the one she had occupied during her captivity. Kisame had explained that that particular room was for guests, and at her scalding expression, had laughingly explained that it was for other Akatsuki members when they dropped by. It was not, as she had feared, a bloody cage for their victims. She was glad though that her room was right across the guest room, as it was on the opposite side of the house. The cottage had been built in a very old fashioned, symmetrical way. Itachi and Kisame occupied the east end, while Sakura and the empty guest room filled up the west. Everything else filled up the rest of the cozy cottage.

In the time she had spent here, the room had begun to look more and more like a room someone inhabited, as opposed to a showroom. Slowly, she had replaced the lavish, but generic furnishings and decor with things that better suited her taste. The ugly shades had been replaced by billowing blinds, and the large four-poster bed had been replaced by a low-to-the-ground style bed. On one particular Saturday, in a fit of domesticity she had painted the very plain white walls a warm burgundy, and had liked the result enough to keep it. The bookshelf, like the one she had in Konoha was littered with medical treasures, some that she had previously thought impossible to obtain.

_Not if you're in Akatsuki_, she thought wryly.

She had learned quickly enough that being in Akatsuki had its fair share of perks. For one, she no longer had to pay for much. Kisame had given her a "list" the first week, of places and people that were "friends" of the Akatsuki. She had blanched at the size of the list – it ran on for more pages than her eyes could count on the spot. "Friends", she learned, was a one-way relationship when it came to the Akatsuki. They never gave anything in return. Kisame had also added in a sly tone that she was welcome to make any additions to her list, should she happen upon anything suitable.

She had immediately rejected the idea – she knew how Akatsuki made friends. It wasn't something she wanted to _ever_ do to another human being, but she had gotten over that too. In her time here, she had made a few additions to the list, some that Kisame had even whistled at.

"It's like you were made for this life, pinks," he'd laughed. By habit, she had scowled at him, but the expression was as half-hearted as she felt. She would never openly admit to something so atrocious, but she had begun to wonder too, if she had indeed been made for this life. The transition had been too easy, and she had been too painfully indifferent.

"Saakura!" her door burst open suddenly, revealing a grinning Kisame. "There you are. Thought you were napping _again_. You're becoming awfully lazy."

She shot him a teasing glare. "Thanks for the privacy you loaf. I could've been _naked_ for all you knew."

Kisame shrugged casually. "It's not like it's anything I haven't already seen."

The pillow that sailed through the air at him at top speeds was dodged easily, and he snickered slightly when the pillow fell apart upon impact with the wall. "You gotta learn how to control your anger pinks. I heard from Deidara that deep breaths help – in, out, in out-"

This time, he barely dodged the barrage of items she whipped at him, ranging from a medium sized medical tome to her slipper. "What do you want, Kisame?" she asked finally, once she had run out of things to assault the bigger man with.

"We've got a task, Princess," he replied, straightening out his cloak. "We leave in five."

Sakura raised her eyebrows at this, but nodded nonetheless. It was rare for either Kisame or Itachi to show up out of the blue with an immediate "task". Though she obviously wasn't as high up in Akatsuki's pecking order, she was still given the privilege of advance notice. When Kisame showed no signs of removing himself from her door, a creepily cheerful smirk plastered on his face, Sakura rolled her eyes and slammed her door in his face.

It was these interactions that put her heart in an awkward deadlock. Kisame was just so easy to get along with – his cheerful persona told nothing of his gruesome capabilities, and Sakura was powerless against it. Quite unwillingly, she had come to trust the blue man, especially after working together for the past few months. He was the closest thing she had to a friend here, and she didn't know if she should be glad, or just angry.

Itachi, on the other hand, was a different sort of enigma completely. For starters, he _was _an enigma, while Kisame was admittedly mostly an open book. Itachi was every bit as quiet and reserved as his outer self projected him to be, but she found that he wasn't all that bad. One thing was certain – he was the polar opposite of Kisame. Where Kisame was cheerful, Itachi was reserved. Where Kisame was loud, Itachi was quiet. Sakura found her thoughts wandering to the elder Uchiha brother more times than she would care to admit. He was just so _different_. There was a certain tranquility to him that even put _her_ at ease, and that type of feeling wasn't something she achieved easily.

For that, she tolerated him and unconsciously, he eased in under her personal borders.

* * *

"This is ridiculous," Sakura muttered, disbelieving.

Kisame only laughed at her, and Sakura thought she saw a hint of amusement in Itachi's unreadable eyes. "Nope. It's _necessary_. Guard your list well, we'll meet back in an hour."

When the two men showed no signs of suddenly yelling out _"Haha! Just kidding!"_, Sakura was forced to accept that Itachi and Kisame had indeed been serious. While Kisame had hastily explained what their "task" was, Itachi had quietly handed her a thin sheet of paper. At first glance, all she could think about was how neat the writing was. Every letter was neatly scripted, each line completely straight. Then she had soaked in the contents. _Required Items: Sakura. Medical supplies. Housing items. Toiletries. Linens. What the hell_?

"Tick tock, Princess. The things aren't going to buy themselves."

"What-"

Before the protest had fully left her mouth, the two men had separated and disappeared down different roads. Sakura thought she saw the ghosts of an amused expression flirt with Itachi's face before he slipped down the road opposite hers. Suddenly she was alone, surrounded only by the hustle bustle of the civilians in their daily rush. There, she stood, for another few minutes before realizing that they were dead serious. No Kisame popped up from nowhere to pull her leg, and no Itachi showed up, silently amused.

Sakura sighed, wondering what the hell she had gotten herself into.

If this was Akatsuki was like, then _boy_, did _everyone_ have everything all backwards. Resigning herself to the fact that she was stuck with this asinine task, her eyes wandered to the sheet of paper. It was true that there were only four items on her list, yet, she mused sourly, it would probably fill up a damn large pack. Deciding that medical supplies would probably be the most fun to acquire, she started towards the herb shop, when she realized she had no idea where it was. Though the town was the nearest to their cottage, she had only visited it a handful of times, and never for medical supplies. Those, she had always found occasion to acquire during missions in passing towns.

The town was small, though, and she had no doubt that if she wandered around, she would eventually come across her destination.

Walking through the streets, she felt rather at ease. After her induction, the two men had told her in all seriousness that the Akatsuki cloak was mandatory attire for her at all times. She had wrinkled her nose because being forced into their organization did not by any means mean that she was _proud_ of being part of it. Showing off to the world that she was now part of the infamous organization did nothing but pour salt on the wounds that Konoha had ripped within her.

In fact, more than a few of the criminals they worked with had raised eyebrows at her new allegiance, some even going as to crack jokes about it. After the first one made that fatal mistake, suffice to say, not another 'partner' dared to comment on her situation. But she could still see the judgement in their eyes, and frankly, it pissed her off. The cloak brought on that judgement, as she soon learned, she could go nowhere where the damned Akatsuki insignia was _not_ known.

So she had been rather surprised to find that Itachi and Kisame never donned their cloaks when they travelled to this village. Itachi had mentioned offhandedly that the village was the one place she was permitted to be out of uniform, but by the way he had said it, she suspected the upper tiers of Akatsuki knew nothing about this little streak of disobedience. In all honesty, she appreciated this little olive branch they extended towards her, and perhaps themselves as well. Here, people simply regarded her as another person, and as such, not many people regarded her at all. Inwardly, she might have been a little pleased as well, to see this side of humanity in her teammates.

After circling the initial area, she was delighted to find that she had been right; the small herb shop sat to her right, as welcoming as a shop could seem. The welcome bells jingled distinctly when she pushed open the door to the small herb shop. Inside was even less spacious than the petite exterior had allowed, and if Sakura had been claustrophobic, she would have died right then and there. But claustrophobia was the least of her concerns as she craned her neck to find the owner. Suddenly, a small, elderly woman appeared from behind a bushel of herbs. "Hello," she croaked.

"Hello!" Sakura replied, feeling an overwhelming urge to smile suddenly. It definitely wasn't the atmosphere of the place, and couldn't have been the owner herself, for though she looked nice enough, there was an unapproachable air about her. Sakura faltered for a slight moment before continuing. "I'm looking for some supplies."

As Sakura wracked her brain and listed the things that came to mind, she noticed a sudden brightening of the old woman's eyes. After she had listed the basics plus ten to fifteen specific herbs, she paused, mentally slapping herself. The old woman had probably lost her ages ago. However, she only gave Sakura a quizzical look, complimenting it with a curt, "Well? That's it?"

"Er, no," Sakura replied, somewhat sheepishly. Clearly, the woman was a lot brighter than her age and appearance let on. Sakura continued her tangent as she prattled on about the herbs, and again, that light in the woman's eyes returned. _Ah_, Sakura realized. _The image of true passion_. She was no stranger to that.

After listing everything, Sakura gave a polite bow, mentally tallying up the total. She had listed no less than thirty specific amounts and herbs, but the woman showed no signs of confusion. Instead, she set out immediately to the space behind her counter, sometimes mumbling something to herself under her breath. Sakura watched, fascinated at first as the owner gathered the precise amount she had asked for efficiently, not a gram more or less. After the process had been repeated with five herbs, though, Sakura's patience thinned into nothing, and her gaze wandered around the little shop.

Sakura could hardly see any unoccupied wall or counter or even floor space. Nearly every inch of the place was covered in items for sale, some so absurd even Sakura didn't recognize. A little table to her left caught her attention; from what she could see, everything on it was an eccentric trinket she didn't recognize. With some degree of excitement, Sakura approached the table, examining the objects one by one. A little green ball with ridges covering it at unequal intervals; a long, rectangular stick that seemed like nothing more than a stick, and-

Sakura froze.

There, lying amongst the pile of objects was a small golden, half-moon shaped object. Like the stick, it seemed to be nothing more than decoration, with no noticeable uses. But Sakura recognized it.

"_See this here?"_ _Tsunade gestured. In her other hand was a small golden object, not unlike something Sakura would see in a decoration store. Sakura nodded. "What does it look like to you?"_

"_A child's toy?" Sakura ventured._

"_It does, doesn't it?" Tsunade grinned. "But that's the beauty of it. Watch."_

_A light green glow covered Tsunade's palms then, engulfing the little trinket in its energy. Without warning, the trinket disappeared along with the chakra. Sakura waited for something dramatic to happen, but after a few more anticlimactic minutes, she shot her mentor a quizzical stare._

"_This, Sakura."_

_When the blonde pointed at the tiny golden sac now hanging from her waist, Sakura nearly did a double take. When did that get there? Then, Tsunade reached into the sac, taking out item after item, scroll after scroll. Sakura's eyeballs nearly fell out of their sockets for all her surprise. When Tsunade was done, the area by their feet was covered completely in things that had been taken from the sac. _Impossible_! Sakura thought._

"_There's only two of these in the world. They were made by a genius long ago. Beautiful, isn't it?"_

_It was all Sakura could do to nod. "Where is the other one?"_

_Surprising Sakura, Tsunade fell into a nostalgic trance. "An old acquaintance has it."_

_Hearing that tone of voice, Sakura knew the conversation was over._

Delicately, Sakura reached out to pick up the little object. It weighed nothing in her hands, and as she studied it, the painful nostalgia that flowed through her was unstoppable. _This old woman is the acquaintance that Tsunade mentioned?_ It seemed impossible, but if there was one thing drilled into her shinobi-mind, it was that looks were deceiving. Immediately, her guard shot up and she tensed, though not noticeably. Sakura was tempted to ask if it was for sale, but she thought better of it. Another reminder of Konoha was one thing she didn't need.

"That's not for sale," the woman's voice cut through her thoughts. The sharp tone surprised Sakura, and she murmured a soft apology for touching it. The woman nodded, handing over the supplies that Sakura had asked for, but there was something different about her air now.

Suspicion.

"Thanks!" Sakura said, handing over a wad of money. She didn't bother to count it, and turned around to leave.

The faster she finished her task and they were out of here, the better.

* * *

The door creaked noticeably as Sakura entered the restaurant. The place was so rowdy, though, that no one but she noticed, and as soon as she set foot in the establishment, she started towards Itachi. Though she usually looked for Kisame's overwhelming presence in situations as such, she ascertained immediately that he was not within the crowd. Instead, her eyes fell on Itachi quite easily, for he stood out amongst the ragged patrons of the restaurant. There was nothing particularly posh or outstanding about him, but for reasons unknown to her, it was as if a spotlight had been trained on him.

Before she could say hi and ask him where Kisame was, their greeting was interrupted by a violent cough. The sound surprised Sakura so much that it took her a moment to realize that the cough had originated from Itachi, and not, as she had originally thought, from another person nearby. To an untrained ear, it would have sounded like nothing more than the product of a particularly cruel cold. But to Sakura's well-honed senses, she knew that no cold could have produced such a cough. She hesitated for a moment, wavering between curiosity and indifference, but upon seeing the steel in his eyes, she teetered towards the latter. Clearly, Itachi wanted no reminders of any sign of weakness.

Sakura cleared her throat. "Where's Kisame?"

"He had some business to attend to," Itachi replied after a slight pause. This piqued Sakura's curiosity, but she knew better than to satisfy it by asking. Around here, if someone didn't offer a piece of information to begin with, you could be sure that no amounts of probing would get you the information.

Sakura was about to comment on their day when Itachi surprised her by continuing to talk. "Did you manage to secure everything on your list?"

It took her a moment longer to reply, for she was momentarily shocked by two things; one, the content of his question and two, the fact that he had posed a question at all. She had previously thought it impossible for such an asinine question to drop from Uchiha Itachi's lips, or to willingly initiate idle conversation with her. Sakura cleared her throat. "Uh, yeah," she hesitated before reciprocating. "You too?"

A curt nod was all she received in reply, but she didn't miss the slightest glimmer of satisfaction passing through his eyes. So quick was its presence that Sakura thought she might have imagined it. It took her only a second more to connect this with his aversion towards talking about Kisame's whereabouts. Clearly, there was something going on between the two that she was not privy to. Sakura was hard pressed to keep her expression neutral. Wasn't she as much a part of the team as the other two?

_No_, the logical side of her brain insisted. _Not in a million years. Not in spirit, and not in practice_. In all probability, she was probably only as much part of the team as appearances allowed.

Their dinner arrived shortly, and though the conversation pretty much lulled to nothing, Sakura didn't mind much. Over her soup, she dared to steal a few glances at the man sharing the meal with her. Poised and controlled, she wondered at how a human being could possibly exert such reserve and caution at all times. Even just thinking about it exhausted her; she didn't want to think about how tiring _living_ like that would be. Every part of him bespoke elegance; from the curve of his jaw, to the neatly held back ponytail, and even the lines of stress etched so deeply into his patrician face. Sometimes his beauty would catch her off guard, causing her to blush like a teenager, and though those times were few and far in-between, Sakura felt mortified each time.

Not long after she had been semi-forced into joining the organization, she had learned the truth behind _everything_. Not simply her background and story, but his as well. It had been more than a surprise and definitely more than she bargained for when she had demanded them tell her the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. When she had asked for that, she had believed that she'd already heard the worst of it. Not even in her wildest imagination did she think that the story behind the Uchihas was so tragic, and Itachi's even more so.

What was left of her heart shattered completely for the twenty-four year old, and quite unbeknownst to her, the part of her that had been clinging onto to Konoha died off completely. Forgiveness was in her nature, and she had believed for a while that maybe, _maybe_, she could forgive everyone in the future. She had too many deep bonds that she didn't know how to cut off – she would give it time, she thought. But after everything became known to her, of all the lives that had been ruined because of Konoha's absolute stupidity, she no longer had it within her to believe. She suddenly felt awfully tired about it all, as if the knowledge of something so heavy physically weighed her down.

Truthfully told, after Itachi had told her everything, Sakura had not known what to think of him anymore. Obviously, it no longer felt right to treat him like the heartless bastard everyone believed him to be. At the same time, she felt like she was walking on eggshells every time she was near him. But that awkwardness had passed, and now they were simply at peace. She didn't think she could quite call them friends – he was still distant, and never really made an effort to become anything but a civil teammate. The relationship she had with him was different from the one she shared with Kisame – with the former, it was little more than an exchange of respect and civility with sporadic conversations, while with the latter, somewhat to her horror, they were developing a weird sibling-like dynamic.

Itachi looked up then, meeting and holding her gaze expectantly. Had Sakura been a few years younger, her reaction would have been predictable and comical even; a large blush, followed by stumbling words over her obvious embarrassment. But now, Sakura simply looked on, unashamed, uncaring. At one point their silly game felt reminiscent of childhood staring contests; but Itachi looked to be beyond silly games, and was about to look away in relative disinterest when Sakura let out a nearly inaudible gasp.

"I nearly forgot," Sakura said, looking a little sheepish at first. But she sobered almost instantly, remembering her earlier concerns. "I found something today. Or some_one_, rather, who might prove herself to be a little troublesome."

This seemed to pique Itachi's interest slightly, but Sakura could not detect even the slightest trace of alarm. "The lady who owns the herb shop. I'm sure she knows Tsunade somehow. And I'm pretty sure they have, or had, a pretty close relationship at one point."

"How do you know?"

Sakura shrugged. "A little trinket she owned. Tsunade has an identical one; they're two of a kind."

This garnered a curious quirk of the Uchiha's eyebrows, but nothing more. "I'll take care of it."

Surprisingly, unlike the times before when he had uttered those words, Sakura felt no chill. There was no dread coursing through her at the thought of him _taking care_ of a problem. This in itself should have been problematic to her, for it probably signified the complete disintegration of her morality. But she could almost see herself shrugging the thought away.

She simply could not care less anymore.

* * *

The next morning, Sakura was quietly sipping her coffee when Itachi padded silently into the kitchen. She might not have noticed him, but somewhere along the last five months, she had gotten used to his presence. In fact, she had become so accustomed to him that her body simply _knew_ when he stepped into the room. After the usual, generic 'good morning', the conversation came to a lull, but Sakura found that she didn't mind. It was no longer awkward, being in the same room as Itachi.

Though she would never voice it out loud, she had rather enjoyed her dinner with Itachi the night before. If they weren't who they were, Sakura might have even considered Itachi the perfect man for her. He contradicted her in nearly every way, and she had always looked for a man that could complete her faults. His lack of conversation had been perfect, for she had enough to say for the both of them, and when he did talk, his words were golden, thoughtful, reserved. But they were who they were, and that was something that could never change. Sakura nearly laughed to herself for even thinking of such preposterous thoughts.

"Heading out?" she blinked, realizing suddenly that he was already dressed with their 'outer-garb'. Once again she was stricken by how well it suited him. One slow day, she had mused about how weird the Akatsuki getup was. In any case, she thought she and Kisame looked downright weird in it, especially when they weren't wearing the kasa. At least with the hat, it covered their features, the ones that clashed so horribly with the cloak. But _Itachi_...he was a different story. The ebony of the cloak brought out the silky shade of his hair, and the clouds, though not quite the same shade as his Sharingan, brought out the striking shade even more.

Itachi nodded, putting the kasa on his head. Sakura offered him a small smile, but said nothing more. She didn't ask when he would return, and didn't ask where he was going. It was an unspoken rule around the house – what they did in their free time was none of each other's business. This was another thing that had surprised her about the organization, the concept of _free time_. Before joining, she had thought that everyday would be filled with toe-curling missions, or at the very least, hiding from everyone that wanted their head on a skewer. But it was everything but that, at least for now. Kisame had shrugged, saying that it was "slow season" for them, that their turn was not up yet. But she was starting to doubt this – in the five months, they had been given less difficult and important missions than she could count on her fingers.

Sure, they had their fair share of random missions here and there, but most of the time, she was free to do whatever. She figured it made sense – if they were stuck doing missions all day, there was no way Akatsuki's power and reach could've been so vast. Time was needed to establish power. She sighed, almost wishing that she knew what Kisame and Itachi did on their free time. She was awfully _bored_ sometimes, not knowing what to do.

When she snapped back to reality, Itachi was already gone.

* * *

_AN:_ Again, sorry for the delay. And as always, thanks so much to all those who have reviewed, alerted, or fav'd. You guys mean the world to me!


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